


My True Love Gave To Me

by JuniorWoofles



Series: I'm in love with idiot (but that's okay because I'm one too) [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But really it's Enemies AND Friends AND Lovers, Christmas, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Idiots in Love, Just trying to show the Doctor she's loved, Meddling TARDIS, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Scheming, Secret Admirer, Self-Esteem, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, The Doctor doesn't believe she's worthy of so much love after so much pain, The Master and his evil schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniorWoofles/pseuds/JuniorWoofles
Summary: All of a sudden, ridiculous presents started showing up, much to the amusement of her fam. But the Doctor wasn’t quite sure who was sending them, or how they were getting to her; until they started getting more personal. All the Master wants for Christmas is for the Doctor to know that she’s loved. Really, it shouldn’t be that hard.Or, the Master has always been good at schemes and bad at expressing his feelings. Sometimes the Doctor gets caught in that cross fire.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: I'm in love with idiot (but that's okay because I'm one too) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054910
Comments: 36
Kudos: 95





	1. On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me... A bow tie as black as can be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rae_Saxon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/gifts).



> Rae, thank you for inspiring me. Your Spyvember series inspired this in a lot of ways, both purposefully and accidentally. (And if anyone hasn't read that, please do because it's wonderful). f it wasn't for you and your works I never would have thought to write something like this and instead I sat down one week mid-November and wrote this. 
> 
> Holding on to this for a the past month is definitely the longest I've gone before publishing a finished fic but I'm excited to finally publish it now. 
> 
> Daily updates for the next thirteen days. Title obviously from the Christmas carol 'Twelve Days of Christmas.' Unbetad so all mistakes are my own

The Doctor was minding her own business (as much as she was able to at any one time), strolling through her Tardis trying to find the library. As much as she loved the old girl and respected her need to change up her look every now and again, it wasn’t always ideal for her. But then again, maybe her Tardis didn’t always love it when she came traipsing in with another new face. The Tardis could always sense her, always knew she was fine, but the ghost of death hung around her. Maybe that’s why the Tardis kept changing, to change with her, to make it all easier, to save them both from living with ghosts. 

The Doctor let her hand press up against the wall and felt the happy purr of agreement thrum under her fingertips. _Always one shared mind_ , she thought. _Guess that’s what happens when you’re the only constant in my life after thousands of years._ The thrum under her fingers changed slightly, almost unconsciously before it settled again. 

“You okay, old girl?” She asked out loud, almost stroking the wall in comfort. The humming was as it was before, as if that thought hadn’t given the Tardis any pause. Deciding to ignore it, the Doctor pressed on with her original thought. “Where did you put the library this time?” she muttered, hoping the corridors would shift in her favour again. 

The engine felt like laughter under her hand and she felt the answers in her bones. _Of course that’s where it was_ , she thought, joining in the laughter of her oldest friend. _How did I forget from last week?_

At least she thought it was only last week she had spent too many hours perusing a library that was so familiar to her, and yet still someplace new she’d only been to a few times. At least this time it hadn’t been in the swimming pool, although that had been fun while it lasted. Her mind recalled swirling visions of bright red lipstick managing to stay put despite the chlorinated water, of silk dresses and stilettos thrown next to a bow tie and a tweed jacket. She quickly shook those thoughts away. No time to dwell on the past, not when she had a library to go and find. 

She set off down the corridor, feeling confident that this time she knew where she was going. After marching into the third kitchen of the day she had finally gotten the message and eaten something. She was hoping now that she had that her Tardis would actually lead her to where she wanted to go now. She turned right twice more and then left and found herself in a corridor she wasn’t sure she’d been down before. _Are you sure this is the way to the library,_ she silently asked but she felt herself being urged on so shrugged off the feeling and kept walking down the path. She felt the passageway narrow around her but she trotted on, knowing her Tardis would always lead her to where she wanted to go, even if she had to ask a couple of times first. 

She kept thinking that until the room opened up again and suddenly she was standing in her wardrobe. Rows and rows of jackets and dresses and trousers swung high above her head, stretching endlessly on to wherever this room ended. Groaning and resigning herself to giving up on the library and hopefully making her way back to her own bedroom to read the books she already had stashed there, she turned round and found the passage she’d come through was no longer there anymore. 

“Oh come on! I’m not in the mood for games! Why couldn’t you have just taken me to the library like I asked you to?”

Around her the engine was silent, and she knew she wasn’t going to get a response until she figured things out by herself. “Look, I’m sorry. I was just in the mood to go there and you know what I’m like.” If she listened really intently she thought she almost heard a very faint agreement but she could have been imagining it. Rare as it was, her Tardis knew how to throw a good stroop as well as anyone else. She seemed to be doing it more and more these days but the Doctor couldn’t figure that out either, although she’d checked every piece of machinery multiple times and nothing had outwardly changed at all. 

“Can you please just let me out now and I’ll stop looking for today?” Still nothing, but the swoosh of old dresses as they crinkled on her far left. She turned to stare at them, the crisp material in purple and black, hung up with far too much care. She cocked her head, trying to remember why those dresses had warranted more care than the ones next to them. In her mind she saw snow and blonde hair, a leather jacket and a ghost story at Christmas. She closed her eyes to try and block it all out, trying to stop the memories from getting to her. _Stop this,_ she whispered, her voice seeming small even in her own mind. She’d had a long day, she had just wanted to find that damn book and now she kept getting visions and reminders of lost loves everywhere she turned. 

She felt the faint rustling against her cheek, almost like a hand being placed in comfort. When she opened her eyes that same spot held only a garish suit of too many colours and she had to bite her cheek to stop herself from laughing at it. Really, whatever had she been thinking when she’d worn that?! _Thank you,_ she smiled, tearing her eyes from her the mid life crisis fashion she’d been shown. 

Deciding to find a door and get out of the wardrobe before she ended up in a maze of clothes or memories, the Doctor wandered a bit more into the room. “Okay, so you wanted me to go to the kitchen because you wanted me to eat. So if I figure out why you wanted me to come here then you’ll let me out, right?”

No noise came but the Doctor still knew that her assessment was correct. “Brilliant. Right then, first things first, let’s start simple,” she said, a grin fully formed on her face again. This was a challenge, against a competitor who knew her as well as she knew her own mind. There weren't many people who had that distinction. It felt safe, it felt loving, and it felt exciting. She quickly stripped out of her t-shirt and trousers and found replacements for both. She’d managed to trade her blue t-shirt for the purple one, reaching out for it before she even noticed which colour she was choosing. She pulled it over her head and went to go grab another pair of trousers but every time she felt herself getting closer to them, they seemed to warp out of her reach again. After the fourth attempt at grabbing the same pair she groaned and lifted her head, pouting. “But I wanted those ones.”

Still grumbling, she turned to put on the identical pair she’d just taken off and found to her dismay they were already long gone. “First you don’t want to let me into the library and now you don’t even want to let me put on the same pair of trousers I wear literally everyday, what is wrong with you…. Oh I get it! I get it now!”

She started running, wearing only a familiar purple t-shirt, socks and underwear. She didn’t care, this was a puzzle and she was beginning to understand. She kept running until she found what she was looking for, instinct telling her to be there. “Oh,” she said as she came to a stop, looking at the rows and rows of pinstripes she’d abandoned long ago. She felt her hands reach out to touch the nearest pair but let the fabric fall from her grasp without noticing. She breathed deep through her nostrils, trying to control her mind before another ghost found its way in. Then she saw them, out of the corner of her eye. She grabbed them and started putting them on without thinking. She struggled against the fabric but the fight was calming. Fighting was good, it was known, it was safe. It was a good constant. And winning felt great, she remembered, as she finally got the skinny jeans to close up. 

Turning, she found there was a mirror behind her already. “I don’t hate it, but it’s not quite right, is it?” She said, inspecting herself in the mirror, the rainbow t-shirt almost faded out of love against the stark black jeans she didn’t even know had been hiding in her wardrobe at all. She had to admit she did look good though. Something about the purple against the black, the way they both clung to her body, it felt right somehow. But she longed for her flares, the comfort of her own choices. But still, at least for today, just until the Tardis decided to let her go where she wanted and dress how she chose again, it wasn’t all bad. 

“Okay, I’m dressed and I’m fed now, can I go please?” she called out. She tried to stick her hands in her front pockets and found that she could only get half of her fingers in, so she stuck her hands in her back pockets instead. The Doctor set off walking, hoping it passed off as casual enough that she could be let out, tattered socks scuffing slightly against the floor. 

The door appeared after a moment or two and she could have ran at it but she kept it casual, trying not to scare it off in case the Tardis decided to trap her here a bit longer. Upon walking closer to the door she realised there was a small table next to it, and on the table was a box. Just a plan box, a deep purple in colour and wrapped in a velvet black ribbon. Gingerly, she took her hands out of her pockets and started to reach for it, relieved when her hands touched something solid. She took the box into her hands and gently shook it next to her ear but heard nothing. She turned it round, inspecting it from all angles, looking for some kind of sign that might reveal where it had come from, but it was perfect. Just a box and a ribbon, no tricks, no traps. She slowly pulled at the ribbon with one hand and watched it flutter to the ground, curling back in on itself as it did so. She lifted the lid of the box and placed it back down on the table before she turned her attention back to the contents. 

“Oh,” she gasped, before she could even register making the noise. She quickly placed the box back down on the table before putting both hands into the box to lift out the contents. In her hands sat a singular, perfect bow tie. She’d worn many bow ties in her life; she’d once worn one everyday for a good hundred years or so. She knew plenty about bow ties. But this one felt different. She couldn’t quite figure out how. It didn’t look special. It was good fabric, yes, but nothing too fancy. It was completely pitch black, no markers or colour on it at all. She turned it over in her hands, looking for anything and all she found was the same colour on every thread of the bow tie. She could almost feel her heartbeats as she held it but she told herself that was ridiculous. There was no way she was getting that excited over a mysterious bow tie. 

For it was mysterious. There was no denying that she had never seen it before. It wasn’t just that she had no memories of it, there was that feeling when she held it. She knew for certain she’d never felt like that over a bow tie before, even in the heyday of wearing them. Placing it gently back in the box, she inspected it again, looking for any kind of note left under the lid. Still she saw nothing. “Maybe River got this for me years ago and left it for me thinking I’d find it myself?” she mused out loud, placing the lid back on the box with care. She cradled the box next to her chest, trying to pretend that she hadn’t felt a twinge of disappointment in the air when she’d left the wardrobe. After all, what did the Tardis have to be disappointed about? She was the one who had ended the game and let her out. The Doctor stared at the delicate little box in her hands and wandered down the hallway again, hoping that this time, maybe, she might finally find the library.


	2. On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me...two journals left in my own library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New present in hand, the Doctor finally gets to the library but the Tardis is still acting up

With the purple box still hugged to her chest, the Doctor walked down another pulsing corridor, hoping her feet would take her on autopilot to either her bed or her console. After the whole ordeal of trying to find the blasted library and being literally stopped at each turn, she either needed to sleep or to go out and do _something._ And while truthfully she wasn’t quite in the mood to go to bed and wasn’t as exhausted as she usually would be before she’d let herself try to sleep, something told her to take her precious present to her room and keep it safe there. She didn’t know why she felt the impulse to keep it from her fam but she didn’t want them asking questions when she knew that she didn’t have any answers to tell them. She could just laugh it off with a simple, “Oh, I think my wife left this present for me many years ago and I just stumbled upon it now,” but that would probably invite more questions than not. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever mentioned River to her fam, but she didn’t know if she was in the mood to do so right now. Thinking of lazy pool kisses in the middle of a restless night in space had probably been enough memories of River for one day. 

But it felt more than that. It wasn’t just that she didn’t have the answers for all the ensuing questions that would probably be asked, she wanted to keep it to herself. It felt special in a way that made her want to be selfish and look it away from prying eyes and only unlock it so she could feel the complete blackness of it under her own fingers. But that was completely illogical. It was after all, only a bow tie. And while she still loved a good bow tie every now and again she’d moved on from her obsession with them years ago. 

Still she found herself hugging the box as she walked along the corridor, so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice where she’d led herself. Stopping on impulse she looked up and grinned. “Oh, you beauty,” she said under her breath, opening the double doors to the library and finally stepping in, hours after she had set out to do so. 

_I don’t know what was so important about this bow tie it couldn’t have waited until after I got here, but thank you anyway,_ she said, caressing the side of the door frame quickly. Once she felt the reassuring hum under her fingers she didn’t linger. She simply patted the door frame a couple of times and headed off. 

Now she was here she wasn’t in any kind of hurry to find the book she was looking for. She knew it was around here somewhere and she’d find it eventually, but until then she was content just to breath in the wooden smell of the library and stroll through the numerous shelves without much thought. She didn’t have to worry about anything that would happen outside those walls, not right now. In here she was safe, surrounded by knowledge and stories and secrets. Books full of histories and truths, of wars and lost loves. Anything she could need she’d find somehow. And if not, she was sure she’d manage to find her way back to the library again another time. 

She shifted the box so it was sitting in the crook of her left arm, making sure that it was secure and wouldn’t be accidentally squished. She knew how clumsy she could be and she didn’t want to dent the box in anyway. She wasn’t even 100% sure who had given it to her but she still knew that whomever it may be that they didn’t go to all the trouble of leaving her beautiful gifts for her to find them and promptly not care about them. This in particular felt like it needed more care than most, but she couldn’t quite figure that one out either.

With the box safe she kept walking, using her free hand to dance her fingertips along the spines of all the books she passed. She could feel the indent of the titles in the spines, the weathered binding holding it all together, all that wealth of information that could be there if she stopped and picked that book out. She felt it in every book she passed, the potential for all that it could contain. But still, she kept walking, her fingers still lightly skipping over the spines of the books as she pressed on. She knew what she was looking for, and she had to find it. The day had lasted long enough without any more distractions encroaching upon her. 

She walked past a few more shelves, knowing that she was heading in the right direction and noticing that she was already closer to the section she wanted to get to than she thought she would be. Soon she found herself surrounded by shelves upon shelves of brightly coloured books; some thinner books with titles that couldn’t be read until she got much closer to inspect them and some larger ones with titles so faded they couldn’t be read either despite the size. It was to one of those that she reached out towards. She quickly put her box on the floor so she could have both hands free to get the heavy book out safely. She pulled the burgundy tome out and smiled at the circular etchings on the cover. _Finally,_ she thought, hand unconsciously following the patterns on the front, tracing the words that only she was left to read. 

She pressed the book against her chest and picked up the purple box and held it tight as well. With a small smile lifting at the corners of her mouth she headed out of the labyrinth of her library, ready to take the most direct path that she managed. 

But, having given her the book that she had wanted, the Tardis seemed to be in the mood for more games and no matter how the Doctor walked or which shelves she weaved her way through, she didn’t seem to be any closer to finding a door. _This isn’t like you,_ she thought as she walked past the Histories of 3300 for the second time. Despite her frustration at being trapped in yet another room of her ship she brightened to think that this might be like last time. Last time hadn’t been so bad in the end, she thought, hand curling marginally tighter around the gift. At least this time she wasn’t in a hurry to be anywhere else. She’d gotten what she wanted after all. _Okay then, I guess I’ll play your games._

The Tardis seemed to like that and suddenly the chase was on. The Doctor wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for, but last time she’d just found herself drawn to what she needed to find. She was getting used to the feel of the tighter jeans now, even if they had been a nightmare to get on, and the bow tie was beautiful, if unexplained. She kept walking, eyes alert, trying to find whatever it was this time. She knew she’d know it as soon as she saw it. 

And there! Nestled between a skinny brown book and a beat up black one, there were two tiny, identical red notebooks. So red that the Doctor was surprised it had taken her that long to find them. They reminded her of the sky dropping low at home, with the Citadel sparkling and all the people milling about in long robes and ridiculous headgear. It was as deep scarlet as apple trees that never seemed to belong to anything more than a most improbable dream, of cheeks burning with the intensity of running, of blood flowing like a gushing river. It was almost unsettling, the vibrant hue of the twin books, how stark and bright they seemed against the darker books she’d found them against. 

She shifted so she was able to hold on to everything with one arm and used her now free hand to grab the books off of the shelf. She curled them both tight against her, the curiosity at what they could contain almost causing her to vibrate. Still, she tried to remain as calm as possible as she set off again, not surprised in the least to find the doors had suddenly appeared around the next stack of books. _What are you up to?_ she wondered, lingering at the doorway a moment before heading off again. 

Whatever the Tardis was up to, she seemed to be back on the Doctor’s side again and led her straight back to her bedroom. She was back in the habit of spending more time there again, especially now that she had her fam. If they were sleeping she might as well appear to do the same, even if she didn’t need as much time as they did and spent a lot of it tinkering with old abandoned projects she couldn’t figure out, or trying to find something in old books that might offer her some comfort. 

She managed to push the door open with her elbow and walked in, depositing all her treasure safely down on her bed, and then maneuvering to sit cross legged on her bed, trying not to disturb her belongings as she did so. Finding it much too difficult to bend her legs like that in her new jeans, she leaned her back against the wall, letting her legs stretch straight out in front of her, like two sticks of black against lilac. It wasn’t much but she found herself choosing purple bedding more and more nowadays. It was helping her sleep and she wasn’t having as many nightmares so she wasn’t questioning it. She moved the Gallifreyan tome to her nightstand, adding it onto a small pile of similarly hefty books that were already occupying that space. Her hand lingered over one circle on the cover before she turned back to the rest of her collection and picked up the purple box. Deciding to keep it safe, at least until she figured out why it was so special, she moved it next to the books, on the side closest to where her pillows were. It looked right somehow, like she'd instinctively put it where it was meant to be. Then she went back to the new books. 

They were remarkably small, the kind that could fit into a decent sized coat pocket and be completely hidden from view. Aside from the colour of them there didn’t seem to be anything too remarkable about them. The pages of one was incredibly stark white, while the other was worn out completely. She was almost afraid to touch it in case the pages suddenly decided to give up completely and come falling out from the binding. She opened the first page gingerly, not even realising she was holding her breath until she let it out. None of the pages shifted violently, as she moved the cover to one side to reveal the first page. The first page held only three words: _‘When you’re ready.’_

The Doctor tilted her head, staring down at the three words, trying to parse out their meaning. When none came to her, she carefully lifted up the page and flipped it over to reveal three words on the next page, _‘Are you sure?’_

 _"_ Are you sure, are you _sure_?"she muttered, hissing through her teeth a little. This book had wanted to be found by her and know it didn’t want to be read and she didn’t know why. Shaking her head a little she tentatively flicked to the next page. Again only three words stood on the page, a curl of faded black ink against decaying paper. _‘Last warning, love.’_

Something about that made her pause. Maybe there was a reason she wasn’t meant to read this. Maybe whoever wrote this book was trying to protect her for something. It would be more rational if the author had intended that message as a general warning but somehow she knew it was meant for her. It wasn’t just that the Tardis had wanted her to find this, it was the feel of the books, the curl of the script, the ‘love’ at the end of the warning. It all felt achingly familiar and yet she couldn’t place it at all. 

She thought of diaries and tried to think who could have written this. She'd kept a journal a very long time ago, but that had been as blue as her Tardis and besides, she'd have recognised her own handwriting, even if it would be a couple thousand years old. The only other person she could think of that was meticulous in diary writing was River.

All she knew from the writing was that it wasn’t River’s. River never let her see into her actual diary, but she’d seen River’s writing enough times to know that it wasn’t her. And River had called her ‘sweetie’ not ‘love’. It didn’t have to mean that the bow tie wasn’t some long left present from her, but somehow the Doctor knew that the two were connected. If River didn’t write the books she wasn’t the one to leave the bow tie. 

The Doctor glanced over at the shiny purple box and then back at the open book in her hands. Somehow she couldn’t tell if she was disappointed by this or not. A part of her wanted River to still be around, to still come splashing into the library and come up and stain her skin with red kisses. But it was too late for that. It was too late for a lot of things. But not having River didn’t mean she didn’t have anyone. She had the author of this book, for one. The real giver of the bow tie. Which begged the question, who was this person? 

She gently closed the cover of the first book, deciding to heed the warning. Whoever left it didn’t intend for her to read on. Maybe they were right and she wasn’t ready for whatever lay beyond those first three pages. She placed it gently down, stretching over to place it on top of the other book she’d acquired today before turning to the other red book. With the warning of the other book fresh in her mind she turned it over a couple of times before she decided to open it. 

When she opened it, she saw only four words on the page, almost startling in nature. The crisp lines left so much white paper and still they seemed to be saying far more than the sum of their parts. _‘When you’re ready, listen.’_ Four words and yet they mirrored the words of the other book so precisely. Curious, she turned the next page and saw it was much the same, _‘You’ll be sure.’_ Once again a reflection of the other book and yet despite the near identical words they looked nothing alike on the outside. One was almost in ruins and the other one looked almost brand new. The Doctor turned the page and was surprised to see it carried more than a couple of words: 

_‘Hi, you. You don’t understand this right now but trust me you will soon. You’ll know when it’s time to keep reading. When has she ever steered us wrong right?’_

The Doctor mouthed the words along as she read, going it over again, and then once more, and that’s when she noticed. ‘Us.’ She may not know who wrote that first book but she knew who had written the three pages of the other one. She had.


	3. On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me... a rather lovely three piece suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Australia had been a bad suggestion but it had come unbidden out of her mouth before she could really consider what she was saying. Besides, she didn’t have any control over the alarms that had brought them here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope all the line breaks manage to format correctly because I couldn't decide how I was going to do it. This has one of my favourite scenes in the whole fic in this chapter so I hope you enjoy

The Doctor wasn’t quite sure how she managed to fall asleep, or for how long she’d even been asleep for, but when she woke she found she was curled as best as she could on top of her covers, the open notebook resting over her hearts. She blinked the last bits of sleep out of the corners of her eyes and shut the notebook carefully, smoothing out the pages she'd miraculously managed not to wrinkle and laying it on top of its twin, on top of the purple box. 

She shifted herself down so that her legs could swing off of the edge of her bed, rolling her neck around to get most of the kinks out of it. She slid down further until her socks hit the floor and stood slowly, stretching her arms up before letting them fall back down by her side. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep for, but between that and the long search for the library beforehand, she felt like she’d not seen her fam in a while and they’d probably be wondering where she was about now. 

She plodded along the corridors, deciding to check the monitors around the console before she started properly investigating where her friends were. It was better to find out if there was a need for concern before she started worrying, not after. They’d seen her do that already enough times. And yesterday's weirdness aside, she was sure there was nothing at all to be worried about. 

Her bedroom was next to the console so she barely had any time to think about worrying before she was where she wanted to be. She smiled as she saw her fam already gathered round, cups of tea in hand as they chatted away. 

“Morning, Doc,” Graham called out as he noticed her entering. 

“Morning, fam! Oh cheers, is that for me?” she replied, nodding towards a fourth cup of tea sitting waiting. Thankfully the Tardis knew her fam well enough by now that she wasn’t going to accidentally do something stupid if they left cups of tea on the dashboard. But then again the Tardis was playing up a bit… 

Focusing on the moment at hand, she accepted the cup of tea from Graham as he passed it to her. “You lot been out here long?”

“Nah, Doc, we pretty much only just got up. Chasing after aliens all day really does a number on ya.”

“Maybe for you, old man,” Ryan quipped as Yaz serenely sipped her tea, already tuning out from whatever Graham was going to respond with. The Doctor caught Yaz’s eye and did similarly. At least this was known, this was constant. She had her fam, and they had each other. It was enough. This here was enough. She sternly repeated that mantra in her head with each sip of her tea, trying not to think too hard on the weird vacancy that suddenly seemed to cast a shadow upon her. 

“You okay there?” Yaz asked gently, but weirdly looking like she was trying to suppress a smile as she did so. 

“Me? Yeah, of course I am, why would I not be, I’m the king of okay. Sorry not king, I’ll - “ The Doctor became aware of three pairs of eyes focusing in on her and closed her mouth sharply before finishing with a murmured, “I’ll just shut up now.”

To her surprise, Yaz merely quirked one perfect eyebrow and waved a hand generally over the Doctor’s body. “I’m only asking because of the jeans,” she laughed. Yaz had a nice laugh, the Doctor mused, trying to calm her racing hearts. Laughter was good, it helped her focus on the now. What had she even been so worried about that her first instinct was to start babbling. Of course she was okay. Why wouldn’t she be?

“Oh yeah, you look good though,” Ryan added, as if had only just now noticed that she was wearing something different than her usual. 

“Hey, you wear the same thing nearly every damn day, it’s more unusual to see you wear something different, that’s all,” Yaz added. 

The Doctor shrugged, trying to play cool and hoping she was managing better than she normally would, “You know, just ended up in the old wardrobe and thought I’d give them a try. Think I miss my proper trousers you know?”

“Do you want to go get changed?” Graham offered. Always so considerate that one, she thought. 

“I’m good. Don’t want to have you lot waiting. That’s kind of the point of a time machine you know, not to go round waiting on things. So gang, what do you want to do today? Go see the lost gold mines of Axcher IV? It's beautiful to see what they can do. Or a trip back home? Maybe some turn of the century? Heard Australia is lovely that time of year but never got round to confirming it, if you’d be up for it.”

Yaz opened her mouth to respond but before she managed to say anything an alarm started blaring on the other side of the console. “Hmm, looks like it’s Australia after all,” she muttered, inspecting some dials and switching the alarm off. 

“What’s the alarm for, doc?”

“Seems to be rabid kangaroos.”

“Rabid kangaroos?” Ryan asked, bewildered. “How’s that our kind of thing?

“Well, they’re also a bright glowing blue?”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Outback all just seemed the same like this, she reminded herself as she landed. She’d double checked the coordinates enough times to know she was close but not _close enough._ They wouldn’t accidentally come across the same area where he would one day be waiting for her. As for her fam, they didn’t say anything about it. Maybe they too had their own pain from that day without speaking about it. Or maybe they could sense her own worry and anguish rolling off her in waves, even as she knew _he wasn’t there._ Maybe Australia had been a bad suggestion but it had come unbidden out of her mouth before she could really consider what she was saying. Besides, she didn’t have any control over the alarms that had brought them here. 

She forced her shoulders back and took in a deep breath as she turned to them. “This is where the distress call was coming from.”

“I don’t see any kangaroos,” Ryan pouted, looking around as if he would magically find one that way. 

“You do remember that they’re blue, glowing and rabid, yeah?” Yaz reminded him. Graham just patted him on the shoulder as he started looking with a new wave of fear in his eyes.

“Let’s go see if we can talk to somehow,” the Doctor said, an air of surety coming back over her. This was what she knew how to do. It was another puzzle to solve, another thing to figure out. She set off towards the collection of farm houses in front of them with her fam following into step behind her. She went up to the door closest and knocked hard. “Hello,” she said, waving a little as the door swung open, “I’m the Doctor.”

“How can I help you?” the woman at the door answered, a little frazzled and hesitant.

“We are with wildlife control,” the Doctor said, waving her psychic paper and putting on her most winning smile. “This here’s Yaz, Ryan and Graham. Mind if we ask you a couple of questions?”

“I suppose I can’t really stop you.”

“Brilliant. Have you noticed anything strange or unusual lately?”

“Couple of attacks on some chickens and weird glowing lights at night, but I’ve not seen what’s doing it.”

“When did it start happening?” Yaz asked, taking over. The Doctor smiled, before something caught her attention. She half noticed Graham glancing over in the same direction but she turned her attention back to the Australian woman. “Honestly, you’d be best asking next door. He’s the one that thinks it's a kangaroo. Not that I ever seen a roo do this before.”

With that, Yaz mumbled thanks and the door was swiftly shut in their faces. “Well gang, what do you say, divide and conquer?”

“I’ll take Ryan to go question the other neighbour,” Yaz said, linking arms with Ryan and walking off after she saw the flash of approval in the Doctor’s features. 

“Guess that leaves you and me then, Doc. Want to tell me what you were looking at before?”

“See this,” she said, racing off a little before crouching down as best she could, “This isn’t right. This rock isn’t from Earth! I’d have to run some tests on it to figure out where it’s from but it’s not from here.”

“You sure?” he asked, crouching down next to her and pinching a bit of dust from her hand. “Looks normal to me.”

She stuck her tongue out and swirled some of it in her mouth for a second. “Definitely. Last I checked Earth rock didn’t have a citrus flavour.”

“What’s space rock doing in this corner of Australia then, eh?”

“That is a very good question. But I’ve a funny feeling it’s not just the rocks.”

“You mean the kangaroos are aliens too?”

“Well not all of them, but these ones, probably.”

“Right so what do we do now?”

“I think it’s time we took those poor things home,” she said.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out, finding and shepherding a rabble of glow in the dark kangaroos was easier said than done. Her fam were all trying to nicely ask the neighbours for ropes and advice on the area. The Doctor found herself back inspecting the rocks, scooping some up into test tubes she’d run back into the Tardis to get. All she needed to do was analyse the rocks and she’d know exactly where to send them all. Thankfully, that was the easier part of the plan. 

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle and suddenly she was on high alert. She stood up slowly, expecting to find a curious kangaroo had decided to wander, but what she found was a whole lot deadlier.

“You! What are _you_ doing _here_?” she hissed, staring incredulously at the Master who was just chilling, complete with margarita in one hand. 

“Oh you know, I thought I might come for a quick holiday, love. I almost miss the old place.”

“You do not.”

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right,” he said, talking one noisy sip of his drink, “this place is horrible and dusty and nothing bloody happens. It’s so boring.”

“Well, not anymore.”

All he did was smile, and crook an eyebrow slightly as a silent gesture for her to keep going.

“Turns out this area is infested with rabid kangaroos except they’re not really they’re not of this world and they glow bright blue and oh…. It was you, wasn’t it!”

“Guilty,” he laughed, continuing to sip at his drink.

“Why on earth would you do something as stupid as this?”

“Got your attention now, didn’t I?”

“Well I don’t want your attention!”

“Oh, don’t you, love,” he sneered, voice dropping a little. Something about the way his lips curled around that last word caused the Doctor to suppress the shiver that threatened to break out. “I have to say, the jeans suit you. Don’t know why you keep hiding yourself under those unflattering things you call clothes. You look bloody gorgeous, sweethearts.”

Her hearts squeezed and she fought the repulsion. No, that was wrong, he was evil and cruel and he never said anything without having an ulterior motive. That was how it always went with him. He didn’t compliment her with both his hearts and he didn’t just drop some space kangaroos in the Outback just as an excuse to see her. Nope, nope, absolutely not. 

“Right, well, I can see you’re having a moment right now, so I’ll just be off. Have fun rounding up the wee beasties, darling. I do so love our chats, I’d hate for you to somehow be crushed to death by a dozen or so "space kangaroos" as you put it. We both know you’re better than that.”

Then he was gone, swirling dust and the hammering of her hearts against her chest the only indication that he was ever here to begin with. Gritting her teeth, the Doctor tried to force the thoughts of him out of her head so that she could try to fix his stupid plan. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor was exhausted by the time she face planted back on her bed. Her fam had waved off as soon as they’d gotten in, all looking to raid the cupboards for biscuits and what not. They were still laughing, enjoying the excitement of corralling the space kangaroos as they kept calling them (she let them, they’d never be able to pronounce their proper name anyway). They didn’t have to have any kind of conversation with _him._ Even after all these years it was mentally draining being in his presence. Every word he said seemed to echo in her ears, every smug expression frozen behind her eyelids. She could hear his salacious laugh again, the mocking way he’d leered at her in her jeans. 

The Doctor suddenly became painfully aware of the fact the offending jeans were still clinging to her legs and reluctantly rolled herself off of her bed so she could begin trying to extract them off of her person. She started shimmying them off, letting them pool at her feet and kicking them as much as she could, trying to stay upright in her battle against the stretchy fabric. _Why had I ever thought this was a good idea,_ she cursed, hastily holding on to the edge of her bed before she could accidentally upend herself on to the floor. 

Finally she managed to free her legs from the jeans and viciously kicked them away, muttering angrily “You look so bloody good, _sweethearts_ ,” as she did. She’d freed herself from the jeans and yet those words were still rattling around her brain. Resolving herself to try and sleep it all off in the hopes that he’d leave her alone by the time she woke up, she turned, ready to throw herself right back onto her bed. That’s when she noticed it. 

If she hadn’t been so exhausted and simply thrown herself on her bed the second she got into her room, she would have seen it straight away. It wasn’t hidden away at all, but rather, hanging off of her wardrobe rather than inside it. Honestly, she’d only put the wardrobe in here so she could hang up her shirts, and so she had something to make her room look a bit more like a room and less like a place that she occasionally slept in. 

She slowly made her way over to the wardrobe and stopped right in front of the garment bag. She knew she’d never seen it before. The old wardrobe in her room only had her t-shirts anyway. Anything else she kept in the main wardrobe, with every other collected piece of clothing that was housed inside the Tardis. Even then she wasn’t sure any of them were hanging in bags. And certainly not in one that looked like this. 

The bag seemed to be shimmering. As if it was made of thousands of tiny stars, glittering in the darkness of her room. Hesitantly she reached out and grabbed the zipper before dragging it down in one fluid motion. The inside seemed at first glance to be plainer and more magnificent than the bag it was kept in. She pushed the side of the bag a little so she could see what it was a bit better. Inside was a suit. A simple three piece suit and yet it seemed more beautiful than any other she’d ever worn. The black seemed to shine a bit, in a glowy way that she didn’t think she knew black could be anywhere outside of a star. The shirt at first glance seemed to be the same as any other plain white shirt that she had collected somewhere in that vault of a wardrobe and yet as she held the fabric she could see that it was glittering. It seemed surreal, like it had somehow all been woven out of the stars itself. 

It was beautiful, one of the most beautiful things she thought she had ever had. But she didn’t deserve beautiful things. The Master’s face came unbidden into her mind again and she quickly zipped the bag back up and stepped away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was definitely born from my own love of skinny jeans and lots of pictures of Jodie in suits. Also, anyone who tells you they take skinny jeans normally and don't just kick at the them until they come off is lying.


	4. On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... a scarf with four embroidered hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite her morning thoughts, the only emotion that flooded through her system upon seeing the present was excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some light O related angst at the start after their run in at the end of the last chapter (which I had too much fun writing), a possible breakthrough and the start of me naming planets and aliens after my friends; Enjoy

The Doctor didn’t sleep well. She woke up feeling even more frustrated than she had before she’d gone to sleep. Why did he have to be like this? Capturing creatures and dropping them where he knew it would hurt just to get her attention? She knew it was too soon to be going back to Australia, especially anything remotely like the Outback because all she wanted was to go running towards the comfort of brown eyes turned to her like she was literally hanging stars in front of him. But people lied, and most of all he lied, and he’d given her such a great friend and a comfort, only to rip it all away from her again. Her hands suddenly twitched, as if they were reaching out for her phone, to pull up that old number and text him like she used to do whenever she needed to believe there was someone rooting for her. Someone safe she hadn’t hurt yet, who welcomed her hundreds of questions, who always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better. 

_Well I guess I know why now,_ she thought bitterly, tucking her hands under her legs to stop them reaching out for something she didn’t have anymore. 

_You bastard,_ she thought, putting all her hatred and anger and upset into those two words, letting them rattle around her head, pretending that he could somehow hear it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be letting her inside his head now, not after everything. That message was going to get lost somewhere. It probably wouldn’t even make it past the Tardis doors. Her psychic abilities were only so-so. Not good enough to do anything but scream inside her own head until it calmed her down. Somehow raging at him, even if it was just in her head, it calmed her down. 

There was so much pent up rage and hatred stirring inside her, so much agony and grief and loss that some days she didn’t know how she was even able to put one foot in front of the other. It felt like too much weight, like she might drown under it. Some days she wondered if the pain would stop if she did. If it would all just go away, that incessant reminder that she wherever she walked she left only a trail of agony and death. She didn’t even notice she was crying until she felt the tears roll down her cheeks. 

She quickly wiped them away in frustration and forced herself to breathe in, breathe out, count to four, count her heartbeats, keep counting until it was the only thing she could hear. No more painful reminders of all she was drumming away, just the dun-dun-dun-dun slowly easing back down into their normal rhythm. 

Once she felt her hearts beating as they should, she got up and went to her wardrobe. She moved the garment bag inside, letting her hand linger on it as she pressed it back before quickly snatching up a t-shirt and a pair of her favourite trousers. Dressing quickly she threw a brush through her hair and opened her door, nearly stepping on the parcel that was waiting just outside it. 

Despite her morning thoughts, the only emotion that flooded through her system upon seeing the present was excitement. Mail! She’d gotten mail. She never got mail. She quickly picked it up and carried it back inside, shutting the door behind her as she went. She sat on the edge of her bed, tucking one leg underneath her and started to inspect it. This time it was wrapped in brown paper, tied together in a thin red wire that seemed to be doing nothing except to show how lumpy the package was. It was worlds away from the immaculate presentation of the bow tie. 

But then again, she thought as she considered the lump in her hands, they didn’t necessarily have to come from the same person. No one person sent that many presents at once after all, and as she still had no clue where the bow tie or the suit came from, or who the author of the first notebook was. This was just another thing to add to the pile. Although it was suspicious that multiple people would be sending her presents like this, all in the span of a few days. She still had friends scattered across the galaxy, but none who immediately sprang to mind as people who’d have access to the Tardis to leave presents around. 

But wait, she counted them all slowly. The bow tie, the notebook, the suit, and now this. That was four presents. Her fam was three people. Was it possible that they had left her presents and she just hadn’t noticed? It would explain why this had been left outside the door of her bedroom, somewhere only the three of them knew. It would explain why everything was wrapped differently, and in different places. 

That still didn’t explain why there was an extra one. But she thought of the suit hanging up in her wardrobe and decided they couldn’t have pulled that off individually. If they had gotten her the gifts then the suit was maybe a joint one? As happiness swirled inside her, she cast aside the voice in her head telling her that something still didn’t add up, that the notebook was paired with one she had written herself. She let herself imagine she was loved that much as she turned to open the new gift in her hands. 

Of any of the wrapped gifts she had received this was the most plainly wrapped. It was simple, brown paper and string. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain it reminded her of an old Earth song from a movie she had watched a long, long time ago. Maybe she could see if her fam would want to rewatch it with her. She could feel herself stalling, mind going off into so many different directions so she didn’t have to sit and study the parcel in her hands. She knew she didn’t have to open it. But even as that crossed her mind she knew there was no way she could resist. 

So she closed her eyes and gave the string a sharp tug, feeling, rather than seeing the paper curl open. Feeling the spike in her heart beats she tried to calm her mind, tried not to let all the emotions overwhelm her but she failed. Getting nowhere in controlling her racing hearts she flung her eyes back open and tentatively looked down at her lap. 

Pooled there, sitting in a swaddle of brown paper with a wire hanging around the edge limply like a loose hug, was a scarf. It was the thickest scarf that she thought she had ever seen in her life and it was so red. Even that didn’t do it justice. It was _red,_ so pure and beautiful and blazen. She touched the wool carefully and she could smell chestnuts, something woody, something that she could only describe as _joy._ She lifted her hand and it stopped. 

Curious she reached out a single fingertip and let it graze against the fabric. The air warmed with the faint aroma of woodsmoke and warmth that fell away the second she let her hand lift away again. _Definitely curious,_ she mused. She wanted to wait, to test it out, to try and understand why this thing in her lap was and what it meant, but the soft fabric was calling to her and she picked it up. 

The smell flooded her senses, not overwhelming her, but overtaking everything else. There was something else there, something else she was missing, but she couldn’t see the whole picture. Gingerly, she wrapped the scarf around her neck, waiting to see what would happen. 

Nothing happened. 

She closed her eyes. 

Still nothing. 

The same scent of chestnuts and woodsmoke seemed to be warming her from her very core, burning against her skin in a way that seemed to melt away only her concerns. Which in itself should be worrying but the scarf was so soft, so very, very soft and she felt safe. She felt safer than she had felt in a long, long time. 

She froze upon realising that and tried to rip the scarf away from her neck but her hands would no longer cooperate. Contentment was winning. She wanted to feel safe. 

She let out a small horrified gasp when the first tear landed against the plush surface of the scarf but she held it up as best as she could from where it was wrapped around herself and managed to inspect it enough to see that no harm had come from the tear. The fabric near her face was too much to resist and she pushed her cheek into it, failing to wipe away the singular tear as more pooled to replace. She was sobbing, shoulders shaking, face pressed into the softness of the scarf, tears softened by the fabric. She was wrecked, a shipwreck of a person barely holding together centuries worth of guilt and self-loathing on any one day. She didn’t know how she was holding it together. 

_Maybe he’s right,_ her voice came unbidden into her mind. _Maybe you’re not holding it together at all. Maybe it’s all just an illusion. Maybe you’re as bad as he is._

“No,” she whimpered out loud, already knowing as the sound left her lips that it was useless to argue with her own mind. She’d only tried it enough times to know. 

_Maybe you do deserve each other._

Her hands curled into the scarf, breathing in chestnuts and woodsmoke until her hearts calmed again. She ran her fingers along the fabric, pulling it tighter and tighter around herself when she felt something. There was something on the scarf. 

Hurriedly, she unwrapped it from herself and moved the fabric through her hands until she found what she had been looking for. At the end of the scarf was an embroidered heart. Next to another one. Two little hearts were embroidered in maroon into the ends of the scarf. Quickly she sifted through the material until she found the other end, and there it was again. The same two hearts. Two hearts at each end, always connected no matter how far away they may be, how close they were to her, still a part of the fabric of the same scarf. 

_Ba-da dun-dun ba-da dun-dun._

Absentmindedly she realised she was beating a heartbeat against the embroidery, making the hearts come to life with the tapping of her fingers. She stilled and the scarf stilled around her. Her hearts didn’t feel like they were racing anymore. They felt at peace, connected, whole, _safe._ She didn’t quite know how to explain it. She hummed, soothing her fingers against the fabric of the precious, beautiful, impossible scarf. Around her the air smelled like chestnuts. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Ryan who suggested it really. She’d smiled at them, picture perfect, illusion of put-togetherness firmly back in place. After their run in with the space kangaroos he didn’t want to go anywhere near hot or deserty, just in case. 

So, she could do that. No hot, no deserts. Piece of cake really. 

Their grins went from bemused to excited as she told them about Jengan, an ice planet with bustling market stalls that served the best slice of Iruvian carrot cake she’d ever had. Apparently the secret was that they sang to the sugar crystals that they grew in their caves but she’d never actually seen the sugar caves to confirm this. She finished her pitch and with three pairs of wide eyes staring at her, finished pulling the levers to go. 

Yaz had peaked out the door first before promptly coming back in with her nose bright red. She looked almost adorable, up until she started scowling at Ryan for singing some Christmas song at her. She set off in a huff muttering about scarves and gloves and how Ryan was not making her play any reindeer games, whatever that meant, and the other two ran after her to grab planet appropriate clothing. Smiling, the Doctor checked everything had gone okay with landing, did a cursory check of the outside and went to go grab her own jacket. Right before she put it on she saw the scarf lying on her bed where she left it, that warm softness literally inviting her to pick it up and put it on. She almost wanted to be selfish and hide it away (and where had that thought come from?) but that didn’t make any sense. She needed to stay warm outside, even if she wouldn’t be as cold as the humans, and it was the cosiest thing she owned. And the closest. 

“Besides,” she told herself, looping it around her neck and tucking the ends with the hearts into her coat, “if they went to all this effort to get me this, the least I can do is show them how much I love it.”

“All set?” she called, heading back towards the console. 

She heard two sets of agreement from up ahead and one muffled noise that sounded like Ryan. She nearly laughed out loud when she saw him, bundled up so tight he looked like he could barely move. “Serves you right for calling me Rudolph, Frosty,” Yaz snickered next to him. The Doctor couldn’t tell if Ryan was blushing or if the heat on his face was from the layers he had been seemingly forced into. 

The Doctor caught Graham’s eye and he shook his head at her minutely, telling her everything was fine and to just let them grumble for two minutes before the excitement made them forget frozen noses and humourous jibes. “Right, well, before we go I just wanted to say something.” She noticed she was rocking on her heels but did nothing to stop it. 

“Okay, what is it, Doc?”

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“What for?” Yaz asked. The Doctor stared at her, trying to work out if her confusion was another joke. But the misunderstanding in her eyes was clear and the Doctor felt her heart sink a little. 

“Oh nothing, just found this scarf outside my door thought one of you might have left it for me.”

Yaz brightened at that. “Wasn’t us, sorry. I’m never organised enough with my Christmas presents but at least I’m not as bad as my sister,” she laughed. 

“Not us, Doc. But it suits you either way.”

Something warm and possessive curled inside the Doctor to hear that but she didn’t know why. It was a scarf she’d had for hours, why did one compliment make her insides turn to mush? 

“Is it Christmas time already?” Ryan asked. 

“I mean it could be, this is a time machine,” the Doctor replied with ease as Yaz started to bounce in excitement. 

“Ryan, wait till you see outside it looks exactly like a Christmas market! But bigger and better! Come on!” With that Yaz was tugging Ryan by the arm, throwing the door to the Tardis open and dragging him out onto the streets. 

“Sorry you don’t know who got you the scarf,” Graham said, coming over to her side.

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll figure it out.”

“You always do.”

“Shall we?” The Doctor asked, throwing her arm out in an over the top manner for Graham to hold on to. 

He smiled at her and took her arm and they walked out of the Tardis. He let go momentarily so she could lock the door and she let out a small breath against the door. So, not the fam then. The mystery continues. 

She turned to face him again, plastering on her exciting-new-planet smile and they walked out into the fray. The smell of chestnuts wafted around her, stronger now than it had been before. It felt achingly close, like a ghost breathing down her neck. She marched down the street, chattering away to Graham at a hundred miles an hour. It was a Christmas market kind of planet, Yaz had said. That’s all the chestnuts were. 


	5. On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... five gold rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The markets of Jengan were a lovely distraction, the Doctor decided, dancing from stall to stall and explaining things to Graham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw there's a start of a panic attack in this but it's not very explicit and doesn't last very long. It's right near the start after she starts thinking about Bill so just skip a couple of lines or ask me for more detail if need be

The markets of Jengan were a lovely distraction, the Doctor decided, dancing from stall to stall and explaining things to Graham. Graham, for his part, was content to let her chatter away, pressing for more explanation every now and again. 

“Oh, see here! These are x’gyovx,” she pointed to a series of crystals spinning in midair. “They use frequency waves to feel distributions and signal that information back and forth to each other.” As she spoke the white cut crystals started glowing indigo in a random sequence, interspersed with little dots of green. One crystal, the smallest on the very outskirts, turned green on impact with another and turned pink as it floated away again. “Oh, I’ve not seen these for two hundred years. They’re so very clever you know. They say that they can read people, read their energies and the glow is their language as they communicate the answers. Many people have done exhaustive studies on their properties and some mediums like to use them for a bit of show. But they’re very pernickety. You can’t imagine the answers. You have to study closely to make sure you’re not misinterpreting the answers.”

“So it’s like a massive mood ring?” Graham asked with a chuckle.

“If you say so. I haven’t the foggiest what that means.”

“How can you say you’ve not seen these in two hundred years and not know what a mood ring is?!”

“Meh, must have just missed me. Come on, I think that’s a rattskian warbler!”

She dragged him away again, missing both Graham’s cries of “a what now?!” and the way all the crystals she had been closest to blinked red then blue very fast before settling on a deep purple. 

The waft of chestnut and woodsmoke never seemed to be far behind her, even if she wasn’t sure if she’d even seen something vaguely resembling a chestnut, roasted or otherwise. As for woodsmoke, the only smoke in the skies was a pastel pink and was coming from vents every hundred yards or so along the streets, warming the merchants, the locals and the tourists alike from the sting of Jengan’s frost. 

The frost wasn’t as bad as she remembered it being. The last time she was here her teeth hadn’t stopped chattering for a week, much to the fervent amusement of Bill. Bill had just wanted waffles, wouldn’t stop going on and on about it and they’d gone to Jengan. It was not known for being a waffle hub but somehow the thought of diner waffles hadn’t seemed right at the time. Bill had beamed at her, back when she was still old and grumpy, and called her Scrooge until she relented and bought her a glow stick that would stay bright for a decade. 

Bill was a bright spot, even if that was faded. Gone. She grit her teeth against the cold that seemed to be creeping along her body now, the scarf suddenly feeling constricting, like it was trying to squeeze the life out of her. She heard a maniacal laugh from somewhere, a softer laugh twinned within it and the Doctor stopped. She froze in the middle of the street, the smell of woodsmoke seeming to fill her lungs and choke her insides in a way it had never done before. The warmth it offered turned to ice and she felt her body go numb. She was vaguely aware of Graham somewhere over her left shoulder, voice filled with concern but she couldn’t work out what any of the words were. All she saw was Bill and that bright smile fading, being crushed out, being broken, being - 

Something pushed past her and she was on high alert again, nearly stumbled with the force that they had pushed through the crowd and knocked into her. 

“Hey, watch it!” she called but it was already too late. She could maybe make out a dark coat flapping in the crowd but it was swallowed up before she could identify who it was that had barged past her. 

“Doc, are you okay?” Graham asked, reaching out a hand and helping her stand up.

“Yeah, totally fine, no broken bones, they only banged me a little so it’s fine I’m more worried if there’s other people out there who they may be ramming into and what kind of damage that could cause…”

She stopped as she looked into his eyes, waiting for her to tell him the truth. She breathed in, out, in out. Four heartbeats, four breaths. She tugged the ends of her scarf out of her jacket and wrapped her hand around the embroidered scarf before she even realised what she was doing. 

“I just remembered a friend that I was close with. I came here with her once.”

“A friend like us?” Graham asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Yeah. I guess she was. I was different then, older and grumpier and she was so bright.” Only then did she notice she was toying with the end of the scarf like a child and stuck her hands firmly into her pockets. 

“Do you miss her?”

“I miss all of them,” she whispered, not even realising how honest she was until the words were out of her mouth.

Graham studied her for a second, watching the way the normally confident Doctor curled in on herself at the admission. “Listen, Doc, I don’t really know if this is my place to say, but you know that we’re here for you right? If you ever need to talk we’re here.”

The pastel warmth flooded near them and the Doctor realised she’d somehow been pushed into directly the right spot to get the most impact out of it. With the hot air hitting her face she couldn’t find it in her to curse the stranger quite as much anymore. 

“Maybe it’s your face.”

The Doctor looked up sharply but Graham was smiling softly. “You look so much younger than me. I know you keep saying you’ve lived for hundreds of years, and maybe one day I’ll believe that. But for now you look younger. Maybe that’s why I want to make sure you’re okay as much as Yaz or Ryan. Yes, they’re adults and they could take care of themselves, but so are you. You’re something more than I will ever understand and yet all I want to do is make sure that you’re smiling with a cup of tea. You carry the burden of so much, Doc, but you don’t have to. That’s what family is for.”

The Doctor smiled at him, teary and small, but honest. “Yeah, and you’re my fam.”

“That we are. Now shall we find where Ryan and Yaz have run off to?”

He offered her arm to her and she took it, not realising until they’d walked a fair bit that the smell of chestnuts had somehow come back stronger than it had before.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found Yaz and Ryan holed up in a marquee made of shimmering lilac walls and what essentially looked like fairy lights. Ryan waved them over so enthusiastically it looked like he was going to hit Yaz on the head but she was smiling at him so they seemed to have gotten over their tiff. As they weave through the crowded tables to get to them the Doctor felt Graham’s hand on her shoulder.

“We can talk about everything later, okay?”

She nodded minutely, not turning round and she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder. It was comforting, safe. Maybe she needed family more than she let on. Wood smoke filled her senses again but it was soon gone as they reached the table and the smell of rich Iruvian carrot cake overpowered everything else. 

“You were right! This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Yaz said, mouth still full of cake. 

“It feels like Christmas came early.”

“Time machine,” the Doctor laughed but her hearts constricted to see them so carefree, so young, so beautifully, wonderfully bright. Happy. 

“My sister is not going to believe what I’ve got her this year. It’s this little alarm clock thing but the song changes based on your mood and sleep patterns. If you haven’t slept well it wakes you up gentler,” Yaz said, swallowing down her mouthful of cake and taking a little trinket from one of the many bags pooled at their feet so that she could show it off. 

“Hey, thanks,” she said, excitement easing down into serene contentment, turning to attention to the Doctor.

“Me? But I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Ryan chimed in.

“This has been a magical day. You’ve spoiled carrot cake for me for the rest of my life unless I can somehow get this on UberEats, and I managed to get all my Christmas shopping done in one day and you made it fun again. I usually hate it by the end, just going through the same old shops and markets with the same jumpers and scarves and the same trinkets. I’m always worried that it’s not going to be enough for my family, to show that I care and didn’t just go through the motions of love. I want to get them things that have meaning, that show I did more than run to Debenhams two days before Christmas because I forgot to be organised again. I don’t know how I’m going to explain how I managed to find or afford some of this, but I can’t wait to see their faces light up when they open their presents. So thanks for taking us here I guess,” Yaz finished, sticking her five pronged fork back into her slice of cake before taking another huge bite. The Doctor seemed to be at a loss for words, stuck in her own head again, so Graham quickly pulled the two other slices towards them and handed the Doctor a fork. 

“Hey, Doctor I was wondering if you wanted to go wandering with me after this?” Ryan asked.

“Eager to get away from me?” Yaz laughed, cream cheese sticking to the corner of her lip. 

“No, I just want to get Graham something and you’ve been no help so far.”

Yaz shrugged, sticking her tongue out at Ryan before turning her attention back to her cake. 

“Yeah, Ryan, sounds great,” the Doctor said, the smell of chestnuts evaporating around her as she dug into her cake. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor tried not to think about chestnuts and woodsmoke and the third thing that could only be described as joy, even though joy isn’t a known smell, as she went through the markets with Ryan. Ryan asked more questions, keeping her mind occupied as they walked. He wanted to find the perfect present for Graham and they eventually found a weird contraption that Ryan said looked like it pulled out teeth until the Doctor turned it the right way up and told him it was a tea making machine that supposedly enriched healing qualities. Ryan’s eyes lit up and basking in his joy made the Doctor forget her own worries for a second. 

After he had paid and received his wrapped gift, it got worse, the smell invading all of her senses and corrupting everything else. 

“Can you smell that?”

“No, what is it?”

Beginning to get frustrated, she took Ryan’s hand and started running, chasing the phantom smell that had been clinging to her like a bad dream for most of the day. She kept following it, knowing it was getting stronger. The nose she had this time wasn’t the strongest she’d ever had but she could still follow a trail if it was left as obvious as this one. She came up short when all she saw ahead of her was her Tardis, the blue both melding into the backdrop of lilac gossamers and pink steam and standing out as if nothing could be that bright here. 

“Sorry,” she apologised, turning to Ryan who just nodded his head as he caught his breath.

“Oooh, did you run to beat us here or something,” Yaz’s voice came from the right before her grin appeared from out of the pink smoke haze.

“No, she smelt something and she ran,” Ryan wheezed, holding on to the door for stability. 

“Must have just been imagining things,” the Doctor said, trying to laugh it off to escape the feeling like she was being mocked for missing the obvious.

“Weird, I thought I saw the same guy who bumped into you but I must have been imagining things too,” Graham smiled. Noticing the Doctor was about to lapse into thought again, he continued, “Let’s go in before we catch a cold, eh?”

She nodded and got the key out of her pocket. They all piled in and the door swung shut behind them with a little tap. _Safe,_ the Doctor thought for a second before the skin on the back of her neck prickled up again. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t as she left it. Ushering the others to stay back with one hand she walked towards the console to see, right in front of her, a jewellery box rested there. She went up to it quickly and opened it. Inside were five plain bands, nothing of note on the outside. Yet even without touching them the Doctor could feel the energy moving between them, a heavy fluttering in the air like a conductor waiting to strike up an orchestra. 

Her mouth made one syllable as she looked down at the gold rings, “Oh.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly enough, this was the easiest chapter to decide the gift for. I love writing dad mode Graham and Yaz and Ryan bickering, so there will be more of those dynamics in future chapters. See you tomorrow!


	6. On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... six mini egg shaped pies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realising that she seemed to be okay and that whatever was in the box didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat, the rest of her fam moved from the doorway to crowd round her. 
> 
> “What’ve you got there, Doc?” Graham asked at the same time that Ryan said, “Oooh, looks cool though.”
> 
> “I don’t know. I think it’s five rings?”
> 
> “Seriously, you got five gold rings,” Yaz asked, tucking her chin over the Doctor’s shoulder to get a better look. “Five gold rings.”
> 
> “I don’t know what the significance of that is, but yes that’s what it appears to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very late, but here we go with Chapter 6. I was a little nervous about writing the fam so I hope they read okay

Realising that she seemed to be okay and that whatever was in the box didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat, the rest of her fam moved from the doorway to crowd round her. 

“What’ve you got there, Doc?” Graham asked at the same time that Ryan said, “Oooh, looks cool though.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s five rings?”

“Seriously, you got five gold rings,” Yaz asked, tucking her chin over the Doctor’s shoulder to get a better look. “Five gold rings.”

“I don’t know what the significance of that is, but yes that’s what it appears to be.”

Yaz moved from behind the Doctor and came in front of her, her tone almost appalled, “How do you not know five gold rings?” She sang the last three words but even that didn’t provoke a reaction from the Doctor other than confusion.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath, she didn’t know what a mood ring was earlier,” Graham added.

Yaz took in a dramatic deep breath. “I can’t believe it’s our turn to educate you.”

Confusion melted away and formed into a wide grin on the Doctor’s face. “Ooh, I do like learning. So what’s so special about five gold rings, huh.”

“It’s a Christmas carol that we’ve got about a guy who sends his true love ridiculous presents in the lead up to Christmas.”

“Hang on, this isn’t the one with the birds and the trees is it?”

“So you have heard of it!”

“Only in passing, I don’t actually know it. And besides, I’ve not got any birds, _yet.”_

“Wait, so this isn’t the first thing you’ve got?” Ryan asked. 

“Well she had the scarf as well remember,” Graham reminded him. 

“Oh yeah, but that’s only two things. How’s that related to the song then?”

“Maybe...,” the Doctor muttered, pulling the ends of her scarf out of her coat. “There’s four hearts embroidered on this? Does that count.”

“Doctor, how many presents have you had in the past couple of days?”

“Five.”

Yaz broke out into a massive grin. “Oh my god, you are actually living out the song. This is brilliant.”

“But what if birds start showing up,” the Doctor pouted, trying to digest the information. Getting a couple of presents here and there was one thing, but finding out someone was trying to court her through an old Earth song was a different matter entirely. 

“We can deal with a couple of birds if it means you’re happy,” Graham told her, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. 

“I think I found a zoo in here last week,” Ryan quipped. 

“Come on, Doctor. I’ll go put the kettle on and you can tell us everything that’s happened.”

“Only if you want to tell us,” Graham added. 

“No, might be nice to have someone to talk to about it. I haven’t figured it out yet and you lot might be able to help,” she smiled back, before letting Yaz take her by the hand to march her down the kitchen. 

They all piled into the nearest kitchen, the one they used the most frequently. The cupboards were basically only stocked with pasta and biscuits but they liked it that way. The kitchen was a patchwork of brightly coloured tiles, with old wood cupboards and a round table in the centre of the room. It wasn’t a big room and with the cushions on the chairs it felt very cosy. It was why they never ventured farther out than that if they needed a good old cup of tea. 

Yaz let go of the Doctor’s hand and switched the kettle on, opening cupboards and rattling about until she had four mugs laid out in front of her, tea bags already inside and a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar on the table. While she did that, everyone else took off their coats and hats and placed them on countertops and round the backs of their chairs. When the kettle went off, Yaz filled each cup up and placed them on the table, finally taking off her own outer layers before sitting down. 

“The hot chocolate we had was nice, yeah, but nothing beats a good cup of tea,” Yaz said, sinking a little in her chair as she took her first sip. 

“No, I missed the hot chocolates! Where did you find them? Could have sworn they were off to the left somewhere down the alley where the steam is more rose pink than the others,” the Doctor said, heaping spoons of sugar into her mug. 

“Think they were further back than that, we found them just after the alley that seemed to only have gloves for six or four fingers.”

“That was upsetting, they looked so cosy, but we couldn’t find any made for us,” Ryan added, taking his tea bag out. 

“Ah, the odd numbered gloves are in a separate alley, probably the next one over or something,” the Doctor said. 

“We just missed them then. This is what you do to me when you distract me with hot chocolate!”

“Ryan, you were the one who suggested hot chocolates in the first place. And I didn’t hear you complaining when we found them.”

“Yes, because everything on that planet is delicious.”

“Didn’t you just have the cakes and the chocolates?” Graham asked over their bickering.

“Yes, but it’s enough to know,” Ryan pouted, taking a sip of his tea.

The Doctor laughed, enjoying the time with her fam. For all they bickered and joked it all came out of a place of love and they really did love each other. She was constantly surrounded by it, whether it was Graham’s caring eyes or Yaz tugging at her wrist or Ryan stopping to make sure she was okay. It was Graham making sure he was never hovering around Ryan unless he was wanted, Yaz and Ryan joking with each other like children, Yaz and Graham swapping notes about old books they found. Love was the air in her ship, the fire that burned in her lungs with every breath. Whether she felt like she deserved it or not anymore, it was a part of her. She sipped at her tea.

“I really don’t understand how you can drink it with that much sugar in it,” Ryan said, pulling a face.

“New tastebuds is all, never would have used to drink it like this before. Tea’s magic though, once brought me out of a wee newborn coma. Now that was a fun Christmas.”

The Doctor looked at the tea in her mug almost wistfully before Yaz cottoned on and changed the subject. 

“Speaking of sweets, anyone else hungry?”

“Didn’t we just have massive slices of cake?”

“That was hours ago,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Anyone buy any food outside? I did but I’m trying to save it so my mum and dad actually get it for Christmas.”

“As opposed to you eating their present?” Ryan chided. 

Yaz stared at him until Ryan faltered in their stare off and started rummaging through his bags, causing the other two to follow suit. The Doctor was surprised when she found a plain white box she didn’t remember buying. She took it out of the bag gently, using both hands to keep it level and place it down on the table.

“What’s that?” Ryan asked. 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember buying something like that. Do you?” she asked, turning to the two who had shopped with her. 

“You didn’t buy much with me, Doc, think I’d remember if you bought that,” Graham said as Ryan shook his head.

“Maybe it’s from your mystery gift giver,” Yaz suggested. “Won’t know until you open it.”

“How? I don’t know who it is, how is this going to give it away?”

“Easy. If there’s six things in there, it’s the same person. If not, you bought it and somehow completely forgot,” Yaz was grinning as if the very idea of the Doctor forgetting something within a couple of hours was laughable. 

“Okay then, that sounds fair,” she said, reaching out and using both hands to gently wiggle the lid open. 

“See, I was right!” Yaz cawed, looking at the six perfect egg shaped objects in the box. 

“What are they?” Ryan asked. 

The Doctor took one egg shaped object out and laid it down flat, before sticking her finger in the white fluffy topping. “It’s a lemon meringue pie!” she gasped, feeling the bitterness of the lemon melt against the sweetness of the meringue.

“Why’s it shaped like an oval if it’s a pie then?”

“It’s just how Jengan pies look, they don’t make pies circular for some reason.”

“How is it?” Yaz asked.

“The pie? Really good. I’m not going to eat all of them, so help yourselves.”

Yaz beamed, reaching into the box to grab one as Graham leaned behind him into the drawer closest to him to pull out forks for each of them. 

“Right, so six egg shaped pies,” Yaz mused as she stuck her fork into the bottom of her pie. “Egg shaped like six geese a laying?”

“I mean, it fits,” Graham said. 

“I’m confused again,” the Doctor said, licking another mouthful of meringue off of her finger before turning to pick up her fork. 

“Okay, so in the song he gets his loved one something different each day in the lead up to Christmas. On the fifth day it’s five gold rings. On the sixth it’s six geese laying. You’ve got the rings and now six egg shaped pies. Someone is definitely trying to play along with the song here.”

“I’m still confused, six geese seem like a really inappropriate Christmas gift. Or have I missed something on Earth?”

“No, it’s a bit of a weird song. He gives his loved one birds and people just to show how much she means to him.”

“It’s like the guy wanted to go as over the top as possible with his presents so there was no denying how much he loved his true love.”

Noticing the Doctor looked a bit panicked at the thought of being gifted birds and people, Graham quickly assured her. “Look you got your scarf yesterday, yeah? Well the fourth day is meant to be four calling birds and you didn’t get those so I’d say you’re safe on the poultry side.”

“Oh, that’s a relief then.”

“Whoever is getting you these clearly knows you better than to get you french hens and turtle doves.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know who is getting me these things. Or how they keep showing up where they do?”

“What do you mean, Doc?”

“Well, the pies just appeared in my shopping bags and I don’t remember getting them. And I’ve found everything else around the Tardis, even though no one should be able to get in.”

“Should we be worried?” Ryan asked.

The Doctor hesitated and let a sip of tea wash away the lemon in her mouth. “I don’t think so? Whoever is leaving these hasn’t touched anything else so I don’t think they mean any harm. And besides this is a time machine.”

“What’s that got to do with this?”

“It’s possible that whoever left them could have left them here years and years ago and I’m only just finding them now.”

“Like it’s part of a plan! Like you weren’t allowed to find any of them until everything else was in order,” Yaz exclaimed.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay, cool, so we may or may not be getting broken into and your secret admirer is either leaving presents for you now or left them years ago and you’re only just finding them now. Makes sense.”

“Makes as much sense as me having a secret admirer,” the Doctor muttered.

“You stop that,” Graham said. “You deserve love as much as the next person.”

She sent him a tight lipped smile in response but he knew it was enough.

“What else have you found?”

“And where,” Yaz added. “Maybe it might be important too.”

“Okay so I was trying to go to the library and the Tardis wouldn’t let me and she led me to my wardrobe and I found a bow tie. Then when she did let me go to the library I found a pair of notebooks. Then there was the suit in my room, the scarf outside and you know about the rest.”

“Maybe the Tardis is your secret admirer then,” Ryan laughed.

“She doesn’t know how to write,” the Doctor added.

“Okay, so they wrote to you?” Yaz asked.

“The notebooks had some writing in them, but I’ve not read the whole thing yet.”

“You don’t have to show us, you know,” Graham said, noticing her slight hesitation. “These gifts are meant for you, if you’d rather keep them to yourself that’s okay, too.” 

“Thank you.”

“If it’s okay, can I have a look at the scarf though?” Yaz asked. 

The Doctor reached behind herself and took it off the back of her chair and passed it over, fingers instinctively curling into the soft fabric before letting go. 

“Oh, wow, this is so soft!” Yaz exclaimed.

“It really is,” Ryan added, reaching out to touch it as well so he wasn’t left out. 

“Does it smell weird to you?” the Doctor asked.

“No? Just smells like a scarf would to me, and maybe a bit like you?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Is it meant to smell like something?” Yaz asked, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to figure out what the Doctor wasn’t saying. 

“No, I don’t think it’s meant to smell like anything in particular. Just wanted to check in case I was wrong,” the Doctor said and Yaz brightened at that, even as the Doctor felt herself become more and more confused. She thought telling her fam was meant to make discovering the identity of this person a lot easier, but now she had even more questions for even less answers. 

“And you’ve no idea at all?” Yaz continued on. 

“I did think it might have been my wife, she was the kind of person who would leave me bow ties and notebooks, that was kind of our thing at one point, but it’s not her handwriting.”

“Maybe her handwriting changed?” Ryan offered.

“It’s possible,” the Doctor conceded, while knowing that it wasn’t her. River smelt like champagne and gunpowder and mystery, not chestnuts, woodsmoke and joy. The Doctor didn’t know who this person was, but she was starting to eliminate the people that it wasn’t. 


	7. On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me... seven pairs of socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jengan was a beautiful place, really it was, but the problem with it was that the cold seemed to linger for days after you left the place. You didn’t notice the extent of it at the time, the pure ecstasy of the planet flooding through your senses, and the pink steam clouds warming you constantly as you walked about, but afterwards, away from the invigorating steam and childlike wonder, the cold returned tenfold. Everyone talked about Jengan as being worth the frostbite, but as it was laughed off you didn’t understand the true mark of the tourist exclamation until it actually happened to you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled to come up with a present for the seventh day for the longest time, but I'm happy with what I eventually came up with. I had a bit of an issue with this chapter because I forgot that the Doctor erased Clara from his memory and had to rewrite some references to her. I've left it as he remembers someone bringing him out of his post-Pond depression but he doesn't remember any actual specifics about her. If the actual show can do some random hand waving to get rid of problems then so can I. Enjoy the chapter and I'll be back tomorrow

Jengan was a beautiful place, really it was, but the problem with it was that the cold seemed to linger for days after you left the place. You didn’t notice the extent of it at the time, the pure ecstasy of the planet flooding through your senses, and the pink steam clouds warming you constantly as you walked about, but afterwards, away from the invigorating steam and childlike wonder, the cold returned tenfold. Everyone talked about Jengan as being worth the frostbite, but as it was laughed off you didn’t understand the true mark of the tourist exclamation until it actually happened to you. 

The Doctor had been to Jengan maybe a handful of times throughout her whole life and every time she was never prepared for the cold to seep into her veins and turn her blood to ice. She had always been too stubborn for her own good and the cold was never something that she had let bother her. She was too busy for that, too grumpy. 

But still, sometimes she had hidden away in worlds of ice, hoping it would freeze her heart and take the pain away. Snow was always good for more than just snowmen. 

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms tight around herself as if that would do any good when the cold was literally coming from inside her. She saw snowmen grow large teeth and come out to chase her, appearing out of nowhere, a threat in the shadows. She saw a flash of red, a growing menace, remembered her grief and her guilt and pushing that aside to do what she did best. She remembered wet feet and wide grins, eyes impossibly large. She remembered lightness, feeling grief begin to unravel and the choking sensation that happened when she literally slipped out his fingers. Another grave, another death. Another reason to run away, again. 

She mentally shifted on to the next memory, needing that cocky voice and doe eyed wonder to leave her alone. There was something off about the whole memory, something fuzzy that seemed out of place. She couldn’t remember the face, the name, or anything. All she remembered was the vague sensations of loss and hope that seemed inexplicitly tied to the idea of snowmen for some reason. 

The scene changed and there she was, her Rose, glowing and radiant. A second date. Fancy clothes and the disappointment in her voice finally catching on when he’d told her it was Cardiff. She hadn’t cared about the wrong dates or the wrong anything else, but that had caught her out, if minutely. She cared so much, so kind in a way that the Doctor didn’t want to be back then. She had been making him into a better person, back when she’d been broken beyond belief, carrying more grief than anyone could survive on. She survived though. She almost did. There were ghosts and a basement in wet, sodden Cardiff, a box materialising and Christmas music playing, but she had been healing. Rose loved her and that was all it took for her to slowly, slowly heal her hearts. 

Until you lost Rose too, she reminded herself. Then your hearts just broke again. 

She blocked thoughts of Rose away and it was replaced by a spaceship overhead, some joke about a Ferrari and the indignation of your best friend making cheap digs at your expense. There was a massive hood that couldn’t contain her fire, a song of freedom rattling around, a misplaced phrase that would haunt her, even now. _Doctor Donna Doctor Donna Doctor Donna…_

She pushed it back, pushed it away, looking for something to numb the pain of memories that never left her, reminders of her failures over and over again. Thinking of Donna only made her think of Wilf, before she had even known who he was, all that he would mean to her. She remembered snow, an empty street, being wrong about something that she knew so well and the smile on the face of the waitress as her dreams came true. There were footprints and real snow (for once), something cold and real and pure. Empty streets full of potential. Potential wasted away into stardust because Astrid never knew how to quit quietly. 

She herself never knew how to quit quietly. She never quit, that was her problem. Everytime she was hurt someone came along with wide eyes and a smile that made her forget all the pain. How could she be so stupid? Running away with the next pretty thing just because she longed to forget the pain that seemed to flood her veins like poison and crush her hearts to ash. She wanted to forget pain and she used their smiles and their happiness, revelled in that welcome distraction as long as she could before pain crept up and took it all away again. She wanted to be better than that, and still she found herself falling into the same traps over and over again. She wanted to be better than her failures. Better than the past she never seemed to be able to escape. She wanted to believe that she was better than all those times that she hadn’t measured up to be the man that she needed to be, to save the ones that she loved. Even their happy memories, those dancing smiles and breathless laughs were a reminder of all the pain that would happen to them not long after. 

The Doctor opened her eyes and watched her breath puff out. It was stark white, like all of the ghosts in her memories were being physically expelled from her body. She knew it wasn’t, knew that they would always haunt her and always be with her. Frustrated at herself and the pain she never seemed to be able to stop causing, she wiped away all the tears that were caked on to her face and let out four steady breaths. Okay, no more thoughts of Wilf, or Rose or Donna. Not today. No more time for mourning. 

She swung her leg out of bed and winced when her toes hit the floor. The ice in her veins felt solid again, numbing her bare feet. She cursed herself again, bemoaning the fact that she was stupid enough to forget her own socks, even after telling her fam over and over again to wear long sleeves and socks to bed to make sure they didn’t freeze overnight. She hoped they at least had taken the advice she’d evidently forgotten. 

She swung her other leg out and was surprised when it didn’t hit the floor, but something else solid. She moved her foot around a bit, trying to get a gauge of what it could be before realisation hit. Bending over, she poked her head out to see a box sitting on the floor; the same purple wrap as the bowtie. Momentarily forgetting about the icicles that had previously been her toes, she reached out and grabbed it, excited as any child on Christmas day. 

Tucking her legs back underneath her and wincing at the cold, she turned the box over in her hands a couple of times before she ripped open the wrapping paper. Under the purple wrapping was a shiny black box. She lifted the lid up and inside were seven rolls of fabric. She tugged out the one on the far right and found to her delight that it was socks. Setting the box aside quickly she threw on the pair in her hands, barely paying attention to the fabric or design, just the need for warmth as soon as possible. When they were on she let out a very long sigh, feeling her toes instantly come back to life, and wiggled them around a bit. 

Grateful that her toes weren’t about to fall off at any second, she turned her attention to the rest of the box. Inside were six different designs of socks, all in various muted colours. With one pair on her feet she was able to pick a pair up one at a time, roll them out to inspect them and roll them back up with great care to put them back into the box without disturbing the next pair. She smiled as she began the process of sock inspection. 

The first pair were mainly dark brown, a deep chocolate colour with thin stripes of a lighter shade cutting through them. She put the pinstriped pair back carefully and pulled out the next pair, a completely black pair that seemed to have fashionably used look about them. At first they appeared to be put together, normal black socks, but she found that there were little holes that had been sewn up all over them that gave them a rather ratty look. She still found that she liked them a lot as she gently placed them back in the box to pull out a tweed set that seemed to be made of a little thicker fabric than the first pair. The fourth pair felt as sturdy as a thick winter coat but as soft and comforting as a favourite hoodie. The pair next to it was fancier, a deep purple with a little white frill along the ankle. The last pair that she pulled out was bright blue, with a thick rainbow stripe just under the ankle line. 

They were beautiful and so cosy and soft. They shouldn’t go together, with their mismatched styles and fabrics, and yet somehow all the pairs seemed to go together, like they had been made to be together in this fashion. 

Setting the box to the side so she wouldn’t accidentally knock it over, she lifted her leg to look at the ones she was wearing now. The top half was the deepest purple out of the lot, something muted and mysterious and dark, and the sole was a softer purple, made into a tweed like style. These were her favourites, she decided, wiggling her toes again for good measure. She wasn’t entirely sure why, maybe it was the same reason that she’d picked these ones out of the box first, but happiness spread through her warming her up as much as the actual function of the socks did. 

She got changed for the day, but left off her coat and shoes. Instead she wrapped herself in her new scarf and it seemed to be doing more wonders for her inner warmth than anything else. She threw it over her shoulders and hugged it around herself like a shawl, hands finding their way to hover over the hearts on their own accord. 

She left her room and headed through to the cosy kitchen, hoping that some of her fam was up already. _Already running to the next distraction,_ her mind supplied but she batted that away. She snuggled her face into her scarf as she walked and somehow the smell of chestnuts made her feel calmer instantly. “If only I knew why they can’t smell this,” she muttered, words almost lost in the fabric. “Maybe I’m just going insane.”

She was relieved to see Graham and Yaz already sitting inside, books out in front of them and cups of tea in hand. 

“Morning, guys, how’re you feeling?” she chirped, heading towards the kettle.

“A little colder than usual but not too bad. Thanks for the heads up, don’t know where I’d be without my thermals,” Graham joked. The Doctor tried not to wince and absent-mindedly rubbed one socked foot over another. 

“That’s good. Don’t want anyone losing toes over a market.” Was she babbling? That definitely felt like she was speaking a little too fast.

If she had been, neither Graham or Yaz noticed that. Yaz merely kicked the Doctor’s usual seat out for her. “We’re reading _Pride and Prejudice_ if you have any thoughts?”

“My main thought is why you have eleven copies of the same book, including four that were in languages neither of us recognised,” Graham added.

“Ah, it’s a universal story, but the nuances really come to life in Silurian. I don’t know what it is about Austen that works so beautifully in their tongue but I cry like a baby whenever I read that version of it. Jane herself, a lovely girl really, met her a while back, kept telling me I was wrong about Mr Darcy but she wasn’t really paying me too much attention. I think she was just trying to snog my friend, which is fair, she’d already snogged me long before then when I didn’t really know what I was doing, still not quite sure how I got married with that face but I didn’t mind… I should probably go visit her again some time, but then again she probably wouldn’t recognise me, would she?”

“Wow, Doc,” Graham whistled through his teeth, “I never cease to be completely confused by your life.”

“Was this a female friend?” Yaz questioned.

“Yeah, but for some reason I can’t remember her face very well.”

“You’re telling me Jane freaking Austen kissed your very female friend?” Yaz asked, excitedly. 

“Yaz, she is not going to take you to go make out with Jane Austen,” Graham remarked with a short laugh. 

“You can do better than that, Yaz,” the Doctor added after watching her deflate a little. 

“You think I can do better than Queen Austen? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Yaz’s tone was light, teasing and yet the soft smile told the Doctor that her words had cheered her friend up. 

“Of course you can. Now _Pride and Prejudice._ Haven’t read it in a while but I’ve been meaning to get around to it.”

“Grace used to love it as a girl but I never read it until Yaz found all those copies in your library. I have to say, I can see why Grace was so fond of it.”

“It’s one of my favourite books,” Yaz added. “They’re both so perfect for each other but they’d rather spend all the time they have together making snide comments and being angry instead of admitting that they’re very much in love. It’s so frustrating, but in the best possible way.”

The Doctor made her cup of tea and sat down at the table, crossing one leg underneath her. Holding her mug in one hand, she kept playing with the fabric of the sock, listening as Yaz excitedly went on and on about the finer points of the reader’s frustrations in watching love build and build slowly until it could be denied no more. 


	8. On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... eight magical, glowing crystals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was her comfort space, or one of them at least. She liked to be busy, keep her mind as active as her hands and there were few places that she could find the peace that came from that apart from here surrounded by chemicals and bubbling tubes and rows of complex machinery, or down in the heart of the engine room. Something about tinkering away at a particular problem, having one singular goal in her mind, it always helped her. There wasn’t time to focus on memories, only the task at hand. 
> 
> There was another problem waiting for her on the work bench next to the one that she had left the goop bucket. It was a deceptively simple cardboard box and yet she knew instantly it was her gift of the day. 

It took many hours of them scrubbing to clean up all the Pai Mil venom from where it had pooled on the floor. They’d managed to get all the factory workers out before the explosion but the Doctor had not been prepared for the managers at the factory to secretly be Pai Mil, hiding in clouds of fog and voice adaptors so no one had suspected anything. They’d managed to save the day through the usual combination of running and good choices rejected by bad people, but the death of one Pai Mil had caused an almost luminous green goo to stick to their clothing. As soon as they had got in the door Ryan had run off to take a bath, muttering something about how he didn’t think aliens were going to have goo and weren’t stereotypes not meant to be this disgusting. 

Graham had helped her get a bucket and a mop and together they had scrubbed at the floor, ringing all the watered down goo back into the bucket. Yaz had taken their jackets away to go and find whatever kind of washing machine the Tardis could conjure up for her. 

With the last of the goo finally off the floor and in the sloping bucket, the Doctor stood back up fully, letting her arms stretch above her head and cracked her neck a couple of times. 

“I needed that. Didn’t think scrubbing the floor was going to be that bad, but I know what she’ll be like if I even leave one little drop of it behind,” she said, throwing her thumb towards the middle of the console. 

“Grace used to be like that with the hoovering, so I get it.”

“Grace didn’t have the ability to change every room in your house with a single thought,” the Doctor pointed out and Graham conceded, laughing. 

“Ugh, I think Ryan was right about this smelling, like I better go take a shower. Are you sure you’ll be okay to carry that by yourself?”

“What me? With all my big strong muscles?” she asked, flexing, a little before waving off his concerns. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’m not taking it far anyway. Unless she’s moved my lab again but I don’t think she would increase the likelihood of me dropping this by accident.”

“If you say so.”

She gave Graham a wave as he walked off before she squared her shoulders back and picked up the heavy bucket. “Now, no funny business and I won’t accidentally drop this all over your corridors or into the vents by accident, okay?”

The low background hum of the machinery was the only response she got back but it was enough and with that she started walking carefully through the corridors, grateful that her lab was still in the place that it had been left. She carefully put the bucket on one of the counters and rolled her shoulder back a couple of times, first the right and then the left. 

This was her comfort space, or one of them at least. She liked to be busy, keep her mind as active as her hands and there were few places that she could find the peace that came from that apart from here surrounded by chemicals and bubbling tubes and rows of complex machinery, or down in the heart of the engine room. Something about tinkering away at a particular problem, having one singular goal in her mind, it always helped her. There wasn’t time to focus on memories, only the task at hand. 

There was another problem waiting for her on the work bench next to the one that she had left the goop bucket. It was a deceptively simple cardboard box and yet she knew instantly it was her gift of the day. It still felt ridiculous to be on the receiving end of so much love and care, getting essentially a new gift every day, with each one being so carefully thought out and almost too perfectly catered to her needs. She still was no further in her search to figure out who these gifts were from, but she was waiting for some obvious sign that might have clued her in. She knew she was missing something obvious, a bright red button glaring right in her field of vision and yet she couldn’t figure it out at all, and with every new present came new clues that she couldn’t decipher. 

She found a box cutter in one of the tool boxes that were laying around and cut the tape in half with quick, neat cuts. She placed the box cutter down and flipped the lid open and peered in. Inside there was a mesh like substance protecting the delicate objects. She reached in and pulled one of them out, realising as she pulled it into the light that it was x’gyovx. With the x’gyovx crystal in her hand she did a quick count of the rest of them, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. 8 in total. Good, so she hadn’t accidentally missed a day or something. 

She did have a feeling that she wouldn’t be allowed to get something in the wrong order, even if she tried. She recalled being locked in the wardrobe to receive the first present before she accidentally stumbled upon the second. Whoever was sending these was making sure that she got them all in order. It felt orderly, to have that kind of determination to make sure that no plans were going to be messed up, even if she still didn’t have a good explanation for how it was happening. 

She let the x’gyovx in her hand go, and took the rest out of the box one by one so they could all begin floating around her. As soon as they were all in the air spinning they began to start pulsing dramatically, tones of oranges and yellows fading into bursts of pinks and purples. They were dazzling, wondrous to behold as they read the energies in this new room and started to make their assessments, sharing them to each other in their language that others could only hope to fully understand. 

“Woah,” the Doctor turned round sharply at the noise at the door but relaxed when she saw the awe on Yaz’s face. 

“They’re beautiful. What are they?”

“They’re x’gyovx. They read energies in the room and convey them to each other, hence the pulsing.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just walking back to my room and I saw lights from the corridor and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Do you want to come look?”

Yaz nodded as she entered the room, watching as the crystals started flashing indigo and eggshell as they tried to figure her out. 

“They’re so cool,” she breathed, lifting her hand slightly and watching as one of the smaller crystals spun out of formation to get slightly closer to it for a second before it flew back to the orbit it had previously been in.

“I saw these with Graham when we were on Jengan. He said they were like a mood ring.”

“I can see why he would have said that, but they’re more intelligent than that aren’t they?”

“They’re lowkey sentient, but it’s mainly all science. They work in the same way that computers do when you put the information in and it churns out results that you don’t quite understand but that you know are right because the computer said so.”

“Computers aren’t this beautiful though.” Yaz watched the crystals dance for a bit, pulsing turquoise every few seconds in seemingly random bursts before a thought crossed her mind. “Hey, there’s eight of them. Did you get your day seven present and not tell me?” She pouted slightly, but in a way that the Doctor knew meant that she wasn’t actually mad at her. 

“Oh sorry, think I got swept up by your analysis of the relationship between Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. I got socks,” she said, pulling her trouser leg up a bit so Yaz could see the new pair she was sporting. Today she was wearing the next pair along in the box, the deep blue ones with the rainbow stripe. Much to her confusion, Yaz started laughing. 

“Oh, that’s brilliant! They got you socks to match your shirt. Did you also get red and green ones to match your other shirts then?”

“Wait, what do you mean it matches my shirt?”

“Oh, Doctor, how did you miss it, it’s so obvious?! You’re even wearing the same shirt right now. See? Blue shirt with the rainbow stripe. Blue sock with a rainbow stripe. Identical.”

“Oh. I did actually miss that.”

“For the smartest person I have ever met you can be real oblivious sometimes. It’s nice, it means the rest of us actually have a chance, you know?”

The Doctor let go of her trouser leg and turned to watch the crystals spit lilacs and violets back and forth, a flurry of purples mixed in with black spots and one that stayed stubbornly red throughout the whole exchange. It was maddening. How had she missed that? Yaz was right, it was completely obvious now it had been pointed out to her. So what else was obvious that she wasn't seeing? Did she have the answers already and just not know it? Was the name at the tip of her tongue ready to reveal itself? 

She was brought out of her stupor by Yaz asking about the other socks again. “Were the rest of them just the different colours then?”

“Oh no actually, but now you mention it I think they were all based on different outfits I used to wear. There was a pinstriped one, and a tweed pair and the black and red one would be the jacket/hoodie combo I was fond of before I started dressing in rainbows. And, uh, well I guess the purple one could be from when I was on exile, and the black one could be from when I was very young and had my granddaughter with me and then the other half and half one could be when I was young again, before I was exiled, but it’s the wrong colour…” 

“Doctor?”

“Sorry, just something doesn’t add up about that last bit. Whoever this mystery person is…”

“Secret admirer,” Yaz corrected.

“Secret admirer,” the Doctor amended, almost, but not quite, hating the way the words seemed to force her to smile. “They’re usually so meticulous with details. I don’t think they would have gotten a colour scheme wrong like that?”

“Like you said, it was a long time ago? Maybe it’s a harmless mistake?”

“Maybe,” the Doctor conceded but she didn’t seem wholly convinced.

“Want to make a list?”

“A list of what?”

“Of who your secret admirer could be, duh.”

“What’s the worst it could do?” the Doctor agreed as Yaz jumped up to go rummaging for paper and pen, as the Doctor watched as the lights all glowed a brilliant almost custardy yellow. The stubborn red one was slowly turning black and didn’t turn custardy with the others. Really, they were fascinating, even if she never figured out what they were saying. 

“Okay, so let’s make a list then,” Yaz said, sitting back down on a stool, paper and two pens in hand. 

“How do I do this?”

“Just write the name of literally anyone it could be and then we’ll go through them one by one and you can tell me why it wouldn’t be them and we’ll see who we’re left with. At the very least we might get a couple of leads to go off of.”

“Okay then,” she agreed, picking up the pen and beginning to write.

_Tardis_

_River_

_Amy_

_Rose_

_Martha_

_Missy_

_Me_

_Vastra_

_Jenny_

_Strax_

_Nardole_

_Bill_

_Kate_

_Osgood_

_Jack_

After a few minutes she had her list, as empty as it looked. She knew that some of the names on the list could be eliminated instantly but she’d wanted to make it look like she’d actually tried to list as many people as she could for Yaz. She passed the sheet over to Yaz and Yaz grabbed her own pen.

“Okay, so how is it not the Tardis?”

“I think she’s definitely complicit in this but it’s not her. And she can’t write or wrap presents as far as I know. I mean I think she could wrap things, she can make rooms appear whenever and delete them just as easily, but I think handwriting is too _personal._ ”

“Not the Tardis then,” Yaz said, striking the name through. “River?”

“Well, she did marry me, I think it was mainly a ploy to not kill me, going against her programming like the rebel that she is, but she did really love me. But we said our goodbyes and I don’t think she’d cross timelines just for this. And her handwriting is different.”

“You know what, I’ll just put a question mark to be safe. Amy?”

“Married, caught in the past, was my best friend but don’t think she ever forgave me for accidentally becoming her son in law.”

“Okay, wow, so maybe not then. Rose?”

“Left in an alternate dimension with a human copy of me so I hope she’s happy.”

“Martha?”

“Married, and doesn’t seem the type to make grand gestures like this.”

“Missy?”

“Dead and hates my guts regardless. Don’t think she forgave me for a lot of what happened between us.”

“Me? You seriously have a friend called Me?” 

“Well, I did at one stage. Definitely not her kind of thing, this.”

“Vastra?” 

“Happily married.”

“Jenny.”

“Happily married to Vastra.”

“Strax?” 

“Literal potato.”

“Nardole?” 

“Nardole’s great but he’s not the kind of person to plan something like this.”

“Bill?”

“Currently off with her girlfriend somewhere, I hope.” 

“Kate?” 

“She had all of UNIT’s resources back when that was a thing but again, she definitely doesn’t care for me that much.”

“Osgood?” 

“Far too sweet to make grand gestures like this. Also dead.”

“Jack?”

“I- Well, actually, grand and over the top does seem very Jack. And he’d have access to alien tech. And I don’t think the Tardis hates him anymore. It might be possible?”

“Brilliant then. After all that and you’ve got a lead and a half. Wasn’t so bad, right? Now, tell me more about this Jack.”

The Doctor smiled down at the list in her hands, finally feeling like she was getting somewhere. She started to talk.

_~~Tardis~~ _

~~__~~ _River??_

_~~Clara~~ _

~~_Amy_ ~~

~~_Rose_ ~~

~~_Martha_ ~~

~~_Missy_ ~~

~~_Me_ ~~

~~_Vastra_ ~~

~~_Jenny_ ~~

~~_Strax_ ~~

~~_Nardole_ ~~

~~_Bill_ ~~

~~_Kate_ ~~

~~_Osgood_ ~~

~~_ _ ~~ _ Jack  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's sock analysis is deliberately wrong because she's an idiot and can't see the answer when it's right in front of her face. The list only has characters from New Who because I know it better but if the Doctor has lived more than a thousand years since she knew some of them, I figure she wouldn't put them as first choice as it's been too long. I'll be back tomorrow with one of my favourite chapters


	9. On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... nine individual pieces of jewellry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course it was Jack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification: series 12 happened as it did but I just ignored the last couple of minutes where she went to the Judoon prison so assume that didn't happen.

Jack. Brilliant, wonderful, crazy Jack. Jack who would follow her literally to the ends of the Earth without thinking. Jack who understood why he had to be left behind, who kept forgiving her over and over and over. Jack who was broken and battered and still he kept going, trying to find the good in people, still trying to play the hero. Jack who was absurd and couldn’t say hello without flirting, who was there when she needed him even if she didn’t realise it. Jack who was ready to die to help her, back when dying actually was an option for him. 

Of course it was Jack. 

She laughed, giggles bubbling up from deep within. She’d always been skirting on the edge of Jack’s affections, always pining for another. But Jack had known that, he’d seen it. Jack had so much love to give, he was prepared to give it however he could, as much as he could. Now, she was subject to the full barrage of his affections. Would it always have been this warm, this loving? Had she denied herself this for years? 

Her wonderful Jack. 

She pressed her nose into her scarf again, trying to find something familiar about it that could prove her suspicions. To her surprise she found that the chestnuts that were usually the first thing she noticed about the scarf felt muted, much fainter than they usually were. She curled the scarf tight to her chest, trying to find the smell she had come to associate with the scarf but all she got was the very faint waft of wood smoke, as if someone had just doused out a fire in a hurry. 

Dejected, she threw the scarf away to the end of her bed before quickly picking it back up and folding it neatly again. The scarf didn’t deserve to have her frustrations taken out on it, especially when it had been a gift. She got up and went to her wardrobe, changing quickly and only hesitating when it came to taking socks out of the box. Her hands hovered over the next one in the sequence, the purple ones with the white frill around the top but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to pick them up. They were just an ordinary pair of socks, she tried to reason with herself, and yet something was stopping her. Adding to her frustrations, she grabbed the pinstriped set from the other end of the box and threw them on instead. 

Jack was going to have a lot to answer for, the next time she saw him. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything was going fairly well. Land on the correct planet at the correct time? Check. Gather intel from the locals who were only too happy to comply? Check. Figure out that something fishy was going on that definitely needed her and her fam? Double check. Then they realised that they were going to have to go to a swanky ball to find the swindlers. Of course she’d been to balls before, infiltrating parties as waiting staff and waving her psychic paper around until they let her go wherever she wanted. But something felt odd about this one. 

The actual ball itself seemed to be a festival of sorts, if the way they were advertising it on the streets and handing out invitations to anyone who passed was any sort of indication. That was easy enough, but not in the way that caused her brain to spike, alert and suspicious. No, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong until they went back to the Tardis to change. 

That’s when she remembered. The last party they’d attended, wrangled on to the guest list and showing up, frowns covered in fake smiles. She remembered calling snap only to find out that it wasn’t the game, the flash of Yaz in sparkles, motorbikes flying through thin spaces, a car behind them shooting away like they were in the middle of some kind of spy movie. 

She remembered a wide grin, too wide, too trusting, ready to put his life in her hands without a second thought, like it was the greatest honour in his life to be trusted enough to come along with her. She remembered fixing his tie, the softness in his eyes, the shy smile as he told her she looked good. 

She remembered it all being a lie. 

Her fam had run off to invade the wardrobe as soon as they got back but she knew that she couldn’t wear the same suit she wore last time. It always came back to haunt her, too many bad memories stitched into the fabric. She didn’t need reminders of more good times snatched away from her by a cold truth she’d been blind to see. 

She'd turned away from them and headed to her room, knowing she had at least one suit there that wasn’t woven with bad memories. She went to her wardrobe and opened it up, pulling the whole thing out of the bag for the first time. Reverent, she ran her hands across the shimmering fabric before she peeled her top and trousers off and slowly began to put the new suit on. She let her fingers appreciate every button as she put it on, smoothing her hands over the fabric to get rid of the non-existent creases once it was on. She grabbed the first purple box from where it was on her nightstand and took the bow tie out and fastened that in place. The complete blackness of the tie made the tiny shimmers of the white shirt glitter even more, showing how much it truly sparkled in comparison against the darkness. 

Feeling better now she was dressed in something that wasn’t tied to bad memories or mishaps, she noticed that she looked good. Like really good. She wasn’t sure she had ever looked this good in this body. The suit seemed to be tailored for her, not just some cast offs she’d found in a charity shop, but made exactly for her. The legs tapered in and cuffed at the perfect length for her boots, the jacket nipped in around her waist, the shimmer of the jacket against the glittery shirt working perfectly in a way that really shouldn’t. When it was on, it didn’t even look that show-offy, in the right light she almost blended in and looked like any normal suit. But then she would turn and the light would hit and she looked like she was actually glowing. 

She went to pick up the jewellry box she’d added to her collection and saw that there was a second one as well. She didn’t remember there being two jewellry boxes, and she hadn’t moved anything into her room in a while, not while her bedside table was slowly becoming a shrine from her mystery admirer. That thought alone told her exactly where the other box had come from. 

She opened the new one first, the same length and shape as the other one. The blue velvet was soft to her touch and the cushion inside was a matching shade. Sitting on the cushion were nine small pins, perfect detailed versions of the planets of the Milky Way. They were all moving, swirling gases and clouds and rocks drifting around in miniature form, all in perfect scale to each other. She picked them out of the cushion one by one and fastened them on to the side of her blazer, instinctively separating them in the correctly scaled fashion. 

With her galaxy close by, she turned and picked out her rings. The feel of them was distinct and could only be from the gold mines of Axcher IV and she turned each one over in her hand before she placed them on alternate fingers, pinky, middle, thumb, index, ring. She looked at herself in the mirror, tugging on her suit jacket to get it sit a little better. She was gold, a star in human form. 

It would be a little too much normally, but all the elements really did come together well. And besides, she argued with herself, it did very much look like she’d fit in with the Tiac people at their ball. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror she went to go find her fam, ready for action once more. 

“Wow, you look really great,” Ryan appraised as she walked back into the console room, not surprised at all that Ryan and Graham were already there. 

“Thank you,” she beamed, not hiding the smile this outfit seemed to include with it. 

“Just waiting for Yaz and we’re all ready?”

“Who said we’re waiting for me?” Yaz said, appearing from another hallway. She was dressed in red, a jumpsuit that was designed to look like a dress at first appearance. 

“You look amazing, Yaz,” Ryan added.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she quipped. They grinned at each other and they all trooped out of the Tardis, towards the Tiacian ball. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ball itself was lovely, almost understated for Tiacian culture but completely over the top for anywhere else this side of the galaxy. Platters of food and champagne floating around the room, the chandeliers glowed emerald and topaz, bubbles seemed to collect in streams around the room and Ryan could have sworn he heard what he thought were tigers coming from somewhere. All around them people were dressed in lavish clothes, layers and layers of tulle and silks, spinning around on a dance floor in a series of highly choreographed dances. 

“Right, remember fam, we’re looking for a man called X Land'R.”

“He’s big and green, I think we should be able to keep an eye out for him,” Graham joked, sipping from electric blue champagne. 

“I trust you. Go have fun, I’ll be around here if you need me.” She smiled at them and with that Yaz and Ryan disappeared somewhere into the crowd and Graham went to chase after one particular food platter he’d noticed on their way in. The Doctor started to wander around, hands fitting into the pockets of her suit (and oh, hadn’t that made her so happy when she’d realised her beautiful suit still had functional pockets!), paying more attention to the way the couples moved in their dance than to where she was going. There was something really enticing about the way the dancers kept coming back to their original partners, no matter how far away they seemed to be from one another or how many people they danced with in between, they always reunited like there was no question that they would be, ready to let each other go again every time in the belief that they’d be together again soon enough. Her breath caught in her throat a little as she watched them spin about, changing hands until they came back to the right person. She kept walking, eyes still transfixed by the sight and didn’t notice the body until she’d bashed into it. 

“Oh, I am sorry, so sorry, I didn’t see you there at a--- Jack?!”

The man she’d bumped into smiled down at her, that perfect charming smile that she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed until it was looking back down at her again. She almost cried on the spot, tears beginning to well up. 

“Hey, it’s okay, no need for tears. The name’s Captain Jack Harkness, but you can call me whatever you want.” There it was, all that flirtatious charm, that smile, what she’d been missing. “And you are?”

 _Oh._ “Jack, it’s me.” _Of course he doesn’t know it’s me,_ she thought, trying to force a laugh out as bitterness caught in her throat for a second. 

“Doctor?” 

She perked up at that, a wide smile that threatened to overtake her entire face. It was Jack, of course he’d see her for who she really was immediately. 

“The one and only. Did you miss me?”

“Did I miss you?!” he laughed, sweeping her up into his arms and twirling her around. “I can’t believe you’re here. I almost thought I’d never see you again. Your fam, are they - ?”

“Yeah, they’re here somewhere,” she said. 

“I was worried, after…” he trailed off as he watched the expression on her face change. “But you’re here and that’s all that matters. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So how are you, you look incredible!”

“Thought I’d give the old body an upgrade.”

“Oooh, I bet you have. Nothing wrong with the old models but this one is really something,” and there he was with the eyebrow waggles making her feel all warm again. 

“Guess I have you to thank for that.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Didn’t you send me this suit?” she asked, arms waving uselessly over herself.

“I think I’d remember that.”

“So… you didn’t send me the rings or the pins or the bow tie either then did you?”

“No? Wasn’t me.” His tone had gone from confused to cheerful again but the Doctor felt herself fold in on herself, becoming smaller with every word. 

“Doctor,” Jack said, noticing her change, “what’s going on?”

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter,” she said too quickly.

“No, it’s something. Come sit with me,” he said. Before she could protest he’d taken her away from the dance floor, but to her surprise he didn’t stop at the first table they passed but led her to the window, where the thick curtains blanketed it in shadows so you couldn’t even see that the ledge was bit enough to sit on until you got much closer.

“Okay, I know you, maybe not like this, but I know you and there’s something you aren’t telling me. Why would you think I sent you clothes and jewellery?”

“Yaz made a list.”

“You’re going to have to explain more than that,” he added. Watching her hesitate and fiddle with the pins on her lapel he continued. “I once filled an entire room with coffee packs. Just kept adding more and more and more until the whole room was about to burst. You could barely move without being scared you were going to be buried alive under a mountain of coffee packets. I thought I was going to be sleeping alone for two weeks after that one, but once he stopped yelling at me he wouldn’t stop laughing all day.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know how it feels to love someone so much that you just want to shower them in gifts.”

There was a pause before she replied. “I don’t deserve to be showered in gifts.”

“Darling, Doctor, of course you do. There’s someone out there who loves you enough to want to dress you like the stars. It might not be me, and I’m sorry that you don’t know who else it might be, but whoever they are they clearly want to not only prove how much they love you but how much you deserve to be loved. You do deserve that, Doctor. Stop telling yourself otherwise.”

“It’s not that I don’t know who they are, although that is driving me crazy, or that I don’t deserve so much love, it’s just…”

“Doctor, what is it?”

“I know, I just... feel so alone.” Another deep breath. Vulnerability was hard and she was not used to having someone who might actually understand her. “My fam are great but I know sooner or later they’ll do the smart thing and leave me before they get hurt. I’m dreading the day that that time comes but I know I’d rather they did that than face the alternative. I can’t have any more of them die on my watch, I can’t. And I just wanted to believe for a second that there was someone out there who could look past the trail of death that seems to be following me everywhere and make me believe in myself again.”

“Doctor, I’m beginning to suspect we need to go to therapy or something?”

She laughed a little at his joke and snuggled in tighter towards him. “I just want to know that I’m doing _good._ I keep trying and trying and somehow it always comes back to bite me.”

“Not always.” His voice had lost that teasing edge, sensing how much she needed to hear the truth she was denying for herself. “You’re the most magnificent creature I have ever seen in any galaxy across my entire lifespan. You’re a little intimidating too. But I was lost before I knew you. Rose was lost, Martha was lost. You gave us a new sense of purpose. All those lives we saved, UNIT, Torchwood, our world and Pete’s, all of that was because you found us and showed us how to be the heroes. I’d probably be running more scams, in jail or dead in a ditch by now if you hadn’t found me when you did. You are so good that you don’t even notice how much you’re saving people.”

He pressed a feather light kiss to her temple before continuing. “I know better than most how dark the dark days seem. When you’ve lost so much that you don’t think you will ever be able to recover. But you can recover. A very wise friend of mine made sure that I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Seems like you have a good friend,” she replied absent-mindedly.

“She'd be a better friend if she took her own advice and actually realised how amazing she was once in a while.”

“She’ll try,” was all the response he got back. 

They sat in silence for a while, huddled into the darkness, starlight and navy pressed into the shadows, just watching the ball unfold around them. As the lights turned from emerald to topaz for the fifth time, Jack turned to her and said, “I’ve got to go. Still got a job to do, after all. But you come find me if you need me, anywhere, anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” she echoed back, softly, knowing. 

He untangled her from his side and stood up, getting the crick out of his neck before offering his hand to help her up. She took it gratefully and smiled at him in all his dashing glory, lights shining above him and hand outstretched like the gentleman he truly was in his heart. _Okay,_ she thought, _not Jack then. But he still loves me. And I love him._

He gave her a tight hug, wrapping her in his big arms. Her fingers clung to the wool of his familiar coat. He gave her a quick kiss to her lips, swift but sure before they separated. He gave her a lazy salute as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her only with the words he had whispered against her lips, “Remember, Doctor, you are not alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ the last line? I couldn't resist


	10. On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... a bouquet of ten roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor sat alone for another couple of minutes, watching the dancers twirl on the dance floor from the safety of the shadows. She turned her attention from them for a moment and stared out of the wide window into the expanse of grounds that lay outside. She could see the yellow hedges were trimmed with gold from the way the light shimmered in the lamppost that glowed down on them. Then the hedges rustled.

The Doctor sat alone for another couple of minutes, watching the dancers twirl on the dance floor from the safety of the shadows. She turned her attention from them for a moment and stared out of the wide window into the expanse of grounds that lay outside. She could see the yellow hedges were trimmed with gold from the way the light shimmered in the lamppost that glowed down on them. Then the hedges rustled.

She narrowed her eyes a bit more, watching as the rustling continued, and then stopped. A moment later it started again on another hedge. Whatever was out there was moving. 

Quickly, she ran along the wall, slipping out the fire escape in the back corner and made her way over to the hedges. As she walked she could see the marbling of the rocks under the glow of the lights, and the gold glistening on each individual leaf of the hedges but nothing that could be causing the rustling. She ran swiftly, as quietly as she could on the pebbled ground until she got to the bush that had first been rustling. At first nothing seemed amiss, the hedge was still intact and no obvious claw marks or breakages could be seen. But then she peered down and found, half hidden directly by the base of the hedge, a single rose. 

She plucked it off of the ground, hands delicately avoiding the thorns and inspected it. It seemed like any other normal rose, a deep crimson red. She held it to her nose, smelling it first and then sticking her tongue out to touch one of the petals. _Odd,_ she thought, giving the petal another small lick, _didn’t taste like the soil of Tiac._ She plucked a petal off and stuck it in her mouth, sucking at the taste of it before chewing it delicately, checking her suspicions were correct.

“Okay, how did you end up so far from home?” she asked the rose in her hand, studying it intently as if it could suddenly answer her question of how an Earth rose had managed to make its way to a ball in Tiac. 

She bent down to inspect the soil, letting the marbled pebbles slip through her fingers. They fell with an almost musical clatter, and the gold leaves of the hedges felt like butter until her fingers. Content that everything else around the rose was as it should be, she walked in the direction she’d watched the rustling move in when she was inside. She headed east along the path, walking parallel to the grand house as she did so. The buzz of the lampposts guiding her way and the crunch of the pebbles underfoot were the only noise as she followed the trail.

She spotted the second rose a lot faster than the first. Running low to blend in against the height of the bushes it was easier to see the deep splash of red against the ground. Picking it up she grinned, holding the rose tight to the first one. Now she had a literal trail to follow. Whatever she was tailing was either waiting to be caught or was extremely clumsy. 

Either way, she kept her body pressed close to the hedges, tight enough to feel the leaves reach out to her but fair enough away that they wouldn’t rustle as she went. There was no point in alerting whoever she was tailing to her presence. That defeated the whole point of the chase. 

So on she went, turning this way and that way, occasionally seeing a rustle farther up ahead that caused her to keep going, changing direction every time the rustle returned. Every new direction found her in possession of another rose. She followed the chase, aware by the time her hand was clutching more than half a dozen roses that she wasn’t being chased, she was being led, following behind a breadcrumb trail. She wondered if she was the intended follower of the trail, or if she had stumbled upon something that wasn’t meant for her. 

The rustling up ahead darted down a narrower set of hedges and she knew that soon enough she’d know if she was chasing something that was waiting for her to find. She ran after them, a smile playing on her lips and roses held tight in her hand. She kept going until she came across a small clearing. 

At the corner of the clearing was another bright red rose and she picked it up and added it to her bouquet. She counted them quickly, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. 9 perfect red roses, tall stemmed and beautiful. She looked down at her hand, surprised to see little nicks on her palm. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding onto the roses tight enough for the thorns to prick at her, too engrossed in the thrill of the chase. 

She waited, listening to see if the leaves would rustle again. She didn’t want to reveal herself and give the game away if whatever she was chasing would just run away. She resigned herself to patience before she noticed something was amiss about the clearing itself.

The clearing was a simple circle, lined with golden hedges and filled with lush green grass that had sprouted up around the hedges soon after she’d started turning away from the house itself. There were four lanterns around the edges, their slight buzzing making the clearing feel like it was being super charged, waiting for something. And in the centre sat a tenth rose. 

Slowly, the Doctor stood up fully and walked towards it, casting a fervent glance around her first. Maybe she was giving the game away here, but the roses had to mean something. She stopped before picking it up, noticing how its stark whiteness shone in the clearing. She picked up the tenth one carefully and added it to her bouquet. It seemed both at home and at odds against the surrounding nine red blooms, a drop of innocence in a sea of blood. 

A twig snapped behind her and she froze and then the voice came and her entire body was alive, fight or flight instinct bristling to go. 

“Well, well, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here by yourself?”

The Doctor turned round sharply, brandishing her bouquet like a sword.

“Love, I don’t think you’re going to be able to hurt me with a bunch of roses,” the Master said, stepping out of the shadows so he was in the clearing with her.

“Did you do this?” she asked, brandishing the flowers again.

“Now, why would I do something like that? To lead you away from your friends? To get you all to myself? There’s easier ways I can go about trying to get you alone than going to all the effort of leaving roses for you to collect.” Something about his smile seemed off, the smirk a little too forced, but the Doctor didn’t notice it as much as the words that came out of it.

“Well you’ve got me alone anyway, so tell me, what’s your grand scheme?”

“Scheme, love? What scheme?” he asked, his face twisting into a facade of innocence. 

“Your grand scheme. Are you employing X Land’R too? Are you really running a smuggling ring on Tiac?”

“Does that sound like me? Sounds a little boring, personally.”

“Okay then, what are you up to?”

“Who says I’m up to anything?”

“I do! You’re always up to something. So get to it then, do the great big evil villain monologue so I can stop you and go back to my friends.”

“Aw, are you bored of my company already, Doctor?”

“Just tell me what you want,” she gritted through her teeth.

“That’s not a very nice way of asking,” he cooed, revelling in winding her up. 

“Just tell me what you want, _please.”_

“Try again, love,” he smirked back.

“Just. Tell Me. What You Want. Please, _Master,_ ” she spat out. 

The Master looked almost gleeful, like it was taking all of his self control to not bounce up and down and clap his hands at those last two words strung together. He composed himself before he tilted his head a fraction and stuck out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“You what - ?!”

“Dance with me. Unlike you dearest Doctor, I’m not going to beg.”

She froze, staring at his offered hand, mind calculating all the ways that he could be tricking her with his request.

“I’m not asking again,” he snarled, moving closer to her and pulling her body flush against his in one fluid move. Startled, the roses flew from her hand, petals scattering around her feet like a blood stain.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as he took her now free hand in his.

“What does it look like? I’m dancing.”

“But why?”

“I wanted to.”

“You can’t just do things because you want to.”

“Oh, is that so?” he chuckled lowly as he began to move them around the clearing, soft steps in time with music that didn’t seem to exist, a slow rhythm in antithesis to the thudding of her hearts. 

“You know you can’t, life doesn’t work like that.”

“Yet here you are, dancing with me. I wonder what your precious pets would have to say about that.” 

With that, the Doctor tried to struggle out of his grip again but the pressure of his hand against the small of her back was too much. 

“Now, now, Doctor, it would be rude not to finish the dance.”

“There isn’t any music?”

“Isn’t there?” he laughed, his eyes twinkling where they met hers before he pressed closer, moving his face nearer to hers. The Doctor tried to move away but she was caught, body pressed against his as he moved them around. They weren’t moving about so much now, not doing much more than swaying back and forth. Near her ear he started singing, some low tune in a long forgotten language. 

The song soothed her worries, magically dissolving them all one by one until all she could think of was how soft his hands felt as they held her, how reassuring his hand on her back was, how beautiful his voice was in her ear as he sang something she couldn’t follow. She didn’t even notice herself melting into him until his lips were pressed right up to the shell of her ear, whispering his song directly to her. She couldn’t understand the lyrics but she could feel them in the flutter of his lips against her ear, the way it felt like featherlight kisses as he swayed her along to the melody. 

In time the words faded out and he was left humming against the shell of her ear, something sadder and familiar in a way that tugged at her heartstrings that she couldn’t quite place. His thumb had started softly rubbing against the back of her hand and they were still pressed together, lost under the stars in the middle of a deserted clearing. 

The Doctor suddenly wretched herself from his grip and moved a couple of paces back. Deep hurt flashed across his face before it fell back into its usual anger, “What was that for?” he snarled, all traces of softness gone from his demeanour.

“You had your dance, now I’m going to go find my friends and put a stop to whatever you’ve got planned.”

“But - “ he started, but she was already running away. 

The Doctor kept running away until she saw the house again and then she started to slow. It was only then that she’d left both the Master and her trail of roses behind. 

_Not that it matters,_ she thought, brushing her hands against her suit as if to get rid of all traces of him. _The roses were probably a trick anyway._

She tossed her head back, letting her hair flip around her shoulders before she continued to walk up to the door. She snuck back inside, ready to find her fam, trusting that Jack would take care of the smuggler for them. She knew she should warn Jack about the Master’s presence but she wanted to get away from him even more, ready to run as fast as she could to get away from the thought that dancing with him had been nice. 

Too nice, she reasoned with herself. Definitely some kind of trick. 

She found her fam relatively quickly. Yaz was easy to spot in her bright red jumpsuit, and easier to spot too when she could hear Jack’s laugh from a mile away. 

She schooled her expression into something more neutral, sticking her hands deep into her pockets as she walked up to them. “Did I miss all the fun?” she asked, seeing that Jack had X Land’R handcuffed by his feet. 

“Yeah, it was wicked. You’re not so bad, dude,” Ryan said, turning to Jack.

“Don’t you forget it,” he winked back. 

“Where’re you been, Doc?” Graham asked.

“I got lost in the garden. Thought I was chasing something but turned out just to be a rabbit,” she smiled, the lie coming easily. “Well Jack, if you’ve got everything here covered, I’m ready to head off if you guys are?”

“It was fun, as always. Until next time, gentlemen, ladies,” Jack said, kissing each of their hands in turn before lugging X Land’R to his feet and hauling him off. 

“You two go ahead, I just need to take my shoes off,” Yaz said, shooing Ryan and Graham away as she held onto the Doctor’s shoulder for balance. With her heels in her hand she linked her arm with the Doctor’s and started to head towards the exit. “Sorry, it wasn't Jack. He asked me about the list and I explained it. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah it’s fine.”

“I know you’ll figure this out, you always do,” Yaz smiled, swinging her heels slightly.

They got as far as the main entrance when they were stopped by a local who bowed deeply before speaking with a burbling voice. “Excuse me but are you the Doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“These have been left for you,” the Tiacian said, bowing deeply again and producing a bouquet of nine red roses with a tenth white one sitting in the centre. He handed the bouquet over and walked away with another flourish. 

“Ten roses? That’s a pretty romantic gesture,” Yaz said, nudging the Doctor slightly.

The Doctor’s grip around the roses tightened and this time she felt the thorns prick into the soft skin of her palm slightly. “Yeah, I suppose they are,” she said, trying to shake away the headache that had somehow started to form. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify because it's him, he doesn't hypnotize in her in anyway he just sees her and his brain turns into a 404 Error as it would. Hope you enjoyed this and I'll be back tomorrow <3


	11. On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me... eleven jammy dodgers (and a cup of tea)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor woke up in a sweat, the rembrandts of her dream stirring around her subconscious. Growling into her pillow she tried to banish the errant thoughts out of her mind, but it was too late, the images were burned there. _It didn’t happen like that,_ she reminded herself, trying to remember the fact that he was most definitely up to something.

_There was a strong hand against her back, holding her safe as their bodies rocked back and forth. Soft music was playing, old songs that time had almost erased. The lights in the corners of her eyes gleamed, their bright, yellow eyes appraising her and her dance partner as they slowly moved around the soft grass. The lights buzzed and electricity crackled. A voice was singing, lips forming old words, a language that only a few left in existence even remembered. She didn’t recognise what was being said but she could feel it in her hearts, the love and safety the words promised her._

_There were lips pressed against her ear, sweet nothings like she couldn’t understand. He let her go for a moment, spinning her away from his body, his eyes sweeping over her form as he did so before he pulled her back towards her, holding her tighter, almost possessively, like he never wanted to let her go now that she was back in his arms._

_The lights felt like distant stars and nothing shone as brightly as her own reflection did in his eyes. He was a comet, burning, and she was the bright shining epicentre, the glow that streaked across the sky and left the trail of stardust for everyone to admire. He was destruction and she was hope and he held her softly, like none of that mattered, like she was the only thing that mattered. He smiled at her, softly, too softly, the ghost of a human he had once pretended to be shining back at her. There was too much love, too much, it was wrong, it wasn’t him, he was hatred and anger and he didn’t love, it was a trick, this wasn’t right, he was up to something, there was a hidden plan, there was something she was missing, there was - there was lips being pressed to hers, incessantly, firmly and she gave in._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor woke up in a sweat, the rembrandts of her dream stirring around her subconscious. Growling into her pillow she tried to banish the errant thoughts out of her mind, but it was too late, the images were burned there. _It didn’t happen like that,_ she reminded herself, trying to remember the fact that he was most definitely up to something. _Just another mystery to figure out,_ she thought, climbing out of bed and wrapping her scarf around her. 

She walked through the hallways until she found her lab, and slumped herself on a stool in front of the x’gyovx, watching the lights turn from a soft mint to a radiant violet as she did so. In turn they went through a cycle of reds to blue to purple, a perfect harmony between themselves. 

“Why can’t I figure this out?” she murmured, nosing into her scarf and letting the constant smell of faint woodsmoke calm her slightly. The lights only flashed pink in sympathy before resuming their previous conversation. 

She stayed slumped over her desk, head in her scarf, eyes half watching the x’gyovx spin around her. _You can do this,_ she thought, _go through the clues again._ She reached over and grabbed the notebook that Yaz had taken out when they’d written their list. Turning over the page she started again. 

_1\. Bow tie. Either knows I used to love bow ties, or that I have many occasions to wear suits?_

_2\. Notebooks. Very personal, message from future me? Knows enough to hide notebooks in my library (yell at Tardis later?)_

_3\. Suit. very pretty, likes shiny things? Fancy tastes, very rare materials. Also see suit point ^_

_4\. Scarf. Four hearts - knows about Time Lords? Psychic/embedded smell? (Person?)_

_5\. Gold rings. Thinks they’re funny - copies Earth song - has been to Earth?_

_6\. Pies. Possibly stalking me?? Knows my tastes, and knows about alien culture and love gestures in different systems_

_7\. Socks. Knows I love socks, has met me before? (Patterns??)_

_8\. X’gyovx, again likes pretty things, may be able to understand them? Also either stalking again, in cahoots with the Tardis or very lucky. Maybe all three_

_9\. Pins. Knows I love Earth, very understated, yet still shows good taste_

_10\. Roses. That's a standard romantic gesture right?_

_11\. ?_

_12\. ??_

The Doctor looked at her scribbled list, trying to make sense of her notes and questions. She couldn’t think of anyone who’d be able to do all of that, make presents appear in her Tardis, sometimes in relation to the planet she’d just been on. The only people with that kind of access would be her fam but they’d already said it wasn’t them and they weren’t the kind to let her suffering continue by lying to her. 

Whoever it may be, they were beginning to cause her to have a massive headache. She could feel it knocking at her temples, something incessant and insistent, yelling at her to see what she just couldn’t. Maybe whoever it was, she hadn’t met yet and they were just getting their timelines mixed up? It would explain how they were able to get her those presents from Jengan just as she was there at the same time. 

Maybe she wasn’t meant to figure it out, at least not until the time was right. That’s what the notebook had said, right? When she was ready she’d know everything. 

Resigned, she dragged herself from her lab and headed along to her room to pick up a bundle of presents before heading through to the kitchen. At least this gift exchange wasn’t going to leave her with lots of burning questions. 

When she got there, Ryan was the only other person in the room, a small stack of badly wrapped presents by his feet. 

“Morning, Doctor. Is it weird to say morning when we’re in space?”

“I don’t know, but I guess morning works. Morning, Ryan!” she chirped, heading straight to the kettle after leaving her presents by her usual chair. “Are you ready to go home? Not that I’m trying to get rid of you or anything but I know how humans are about holidays.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed my mates and stuff and it’ll be good to see them. Don’t know what stories I’ll be able to tell them when they ask. Can’t exactly say I was chasing blue space kangaroos and going to parties on alien planets to catch smugglers.”

“I’m still sad I missed all the action.”

“Yeah, but you still got those,” Ryan said, indicating the bouquet that the Doctor had left in the kitchen. It felt brighter there than in the recesses of her room and she didn’t want to be reminded of the dance without someone else there as distraction to stop her from focusing on that. She reached out and fiddled with one of the ruby red petals before she continued making her tea. She started rummaging in the cupboards for some biscuits and found a box she didn’t think she’d put there. 

“Did you get these?” she asked, pulling it out. It was a small box, charcoal in colour and otherwise completely nondescript. Nothing to indicate why it might have been left in their biscuit cupboard. 

“Nah, that wasn’t me.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, taking the lid off gently. “Oh, it’s just jammy dodgers!” She placed the box down on the table next to her bouquet. 

Ryan stared intently at the contents of the box for a moment before he spoke. “Do you realise that there are eleven biscuits here? Feels like a weird number to choose, unless it was done on purpose.”

“Are there really?” she asked, turning back to the box and giving them a quick count herself. 

“Hey, guess that makes this your eleventh present then,” Ryan grinned. “Only one more left after this.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor said, suddenly realising how quickly she was running out of time. Before the presents seemed to just be coming, leaving endless clues that only left her with more questions to figure out. Now she had only one more present in which to figure out what everything meant, who this person was.

“Do you still not have a clue?”

“Thought it might have been Jack but he said it wasn’t him and I ruled out everyone else. I guess I’m just not meant to know.”

“Nah, don’t say that. Whoever it is would be daft to not just tell you they love you.”

“You think?” she said with a bit of a strangled laugh.

“Absolutely.”

“What would I do without you, Ryan?” 

“I dunno, you’d probably just have eaten all of these without counting and missed a present entirely.”

“For that I am very thankful,” she said, sitting down with her cuppa. 

“What’s this about missing presents?” Yaz laughed from the doorway. 

“Why do you keep being summoned into conversations like this?”

“Magic,” she replied, leaving her presents on the table before making two cups of tea. “Graham is just coming, think he’s just finishing wrapping one of his presents.”

“No, I’m not, all wrapped,” Graham said, coming into the room with his arms laden with presents.

“Why’ve you got so many?” Ryan asked, once he stopped glaring at Graham for also appearing like magic. 

“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, sitting down and taking the cup of tea as Yaz passed it over. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding towards the biscuit box.

“Eleven jammy dodgers.”

“Eleven, as in…” Yaz asked, letting the sentence finish itself.

“Must be, wouldn’t have even caught it if Ryan hadn’t pointed it out.”

“Is there anything significant about eleven jammy dodgers?”

“I used to really love them, not had them in a while. That’s about it.”

“Hey, I guess they’re just proving they know you then,” she added with a shrug. 

“I guess so. Help yourselves if you want to have one,” the Doctor said with a sip of her tea.

Ryan was the first to eat one, chewing thoughtfully before he turned to everyone else. “Do these taste weird to anyone else?”

Yaz quickly grabbed one and bit into it. “I see what you mean. It looks like a normal jammy dodger but something’s not quite right about it.”

“Maybe they’re just home made?” Graham said after he’d tried one. 

Three sets of expectant eyes looked at the Doctor as she finally took a biscuit and bit into it. It crumbled in her mouth and she closed her eyes, focusing fully on the flavours. Everything was right, biscuit, cream and jam and yet something about the jam wasn’t quite as it should be. It didn’t taste of any Earth jam she’d ever had in her life. It tasted of _home._ She took a second bite of her biscuit and let the taste remind her of hazy days in her youth of running away, hands tightly clasped together as their breath puffed out of them, only stopping to snack on the food they’d stolen from their pantries before they’d made their escape. 

Opening her eyes against the onslaught of images she took a third bite and tried to smile around it. “I think it’s just the jam that you’re not quite used to.”

Yaz took another bite of her own biscuit before nodding, “Yeah, it’s definitely the jam. It definitely tastes nice though.”

“Enough of my presents,” the Doctor said, looking for the easiest way to take the focus from the childhood memories the simple biscuit was evoking. “Time that you lot got some too.”

They traded presents back and forth until the table was packed with trinkets and the ground was littered with wrapping paper. It was easier to hide that she was barely touching her jammy dodger, sipping at her tea immediately after every small bite, trying to wash the memories away before they could come creeping back in. It was too intimate and it was terrifying having that come from an unknown source. 

Intimacy with her fam, now that was a lot easier. All she had to do was watch them open up presents and she felt at ease, turning her attention back to one of them every time her gaze slipped down over to the bouquet or the charcoal biscuit box. 

Time slipped away from them, laughing and celebrating in their kitchen. A box of chocolates had appeared from somewhere and they’d picked at those until the box ran out and their laughter subsided. At least even if she was unsure about anything else, the Doctor knew that here in this moment she had the love of her fam and that was all the certainty she needed. 

Eventually, they got up and went to pack and she headed to the console, double checking to make sure she was sending them back at the right time. The engine wheezed as she warped through space, landing with the usual elation. Even sending her fam home couldn’t dull the wondrous ache of being in her Tardis. 

“Right, fam, you got everything?” she asked as they came back in, each laden down with bags. 

“Think so, if not we’ll grab it when you come back,” Graham said, giving the Doctor a hug. “Merry Christmas, doc.”

“Merry Christmas, Graham.”

Ryan came up and hugged her next, trying not to offset his balance with his heavy bag on. “Merry Christmas. I’ll see you next year.”

“Yeah you will.”

Ryan and Graham went out, leaving Yaz with the Doctor. She gave her the biggest hug of the lot, wrapping her arms tighter around the Doctor. “It’s only for a few weeks, remember. And I know you’ve got a time machine but go the long way round. Take the time and go find your mystery person, okay?”

“Okay, Yaz,” the Doctor smiled.

“I’ll expect a full report when you come back,” Yaz laughed, straightening her bagpack on her back and walking out the door, giving the Doctor one last wave before she shut the door behind her, leaving the Doctor alone once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured if I based the tenth day after the Tenth Doctor I could make the eleventh day some jammy dodgers. We're getting close to the end, but how much closer is the Doctor to figuring out the truth? Only two more chapters to go


	12. On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... fruit seeds from a childhood tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is bloody ridiculous,” she muttered, setting the last mug on the drying rack and throwing herself on the nearest seat. She stared at the blooms, reaching out once again to feel the soft petals between her fingers. She pulled the notebook over and opened it up, scoring out the question mark and filling in the correct answer. 
> 
> _11. ~~?~~ jammy dodgers that taste of home, why do they taste of home, is this some cruel joke? _

Alone again, the Doctor materialised again, needing the comfort of space to quieten her thoughts. Once she was content with where she was drifting, she went back through to her lab. The x’gyovx blinked at her, mint green spiking into blooms of purple and red, but she only stopped to pick up the notepad and pen before heading back to the kitchen. The table was still littered with wrapping paper in various colours and conditions, and the mugs were still stacked in the sink. 

She placed the notepad down on the table next to her bouquet and began to tidy. She swept the wrapping paper over to one corner of the room and quickly rinsed out the mugs. She started humming to herself, something old and comforting. She froze in the midst of cleaning Graham’s cup, realising she had started humming the same song the Master had sung to her when he’d danced with her in the garden on Tiac. She pressed her ear into her shoulder as if to get rid of the ghosts of his lips crooning into her ear. 

“This is bloody ridiculous,” she muttered, setting the last mug on the drying rack and throwing herself on the nearest seat. She stared at the blooms, reaching out once again to feel the soft petals between her fingers. She pulled the notebook over and opened it up, scoring out the question mark and filling in the correct answer. 

_11. ~~?~~ jammy dodgers that taste of home, why do they taste of home, is this some cruel joke? _

Worried that she’d somehow made it all up to begin with she reached out and grabbed another biscuit from the box. She closed her eyes and took a large bite, letting the taste flood her senses as she had let it before. 

_She was small, so small, but he wasn’t. He’d always been slightly taller, slightly bigger; at least he had been when they had been that young. They laughed as they raced through the Citadel, ducking and dodging and trying to escape before anyone even realised they were together again. Hearts were thudding against her slight frame, but he flashed a cocky grin behind his shoulder and held on to her hand tighter. He wasn’t letting her go._

_The two children came to a stop, chests heaving as their breath fought to return to normal. He’d stuck his hand into his pocket and brought out a small fruit, almost purple looking in how dark it was but even in the shadows she knew how red the fruit really was. It was as vibrant as the sky, as flushed as his cheeks when he spoke to her, and she’d told him as much. They’d been boys, young and foolish, and sharing sweet fruits together in the corners of the city, out of reach from everyone else, was the refuge they sought out day after day._

The Doctor swallowed the bite of biscuit around the lump in her throat that had suddenly appeared. 

“Why,” she moaned into the emptiness of the kitchen. “Why are you doing this? Why wouldn’t you tell me who you are? Why would you do this? She ended her plea on a whimper, crushing the other half of the biscuit in her hand. She watched the crumbs fall onto the table, littering it in little droplets of biscuit, jam and cream. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You can’t do this. You can’t know that flavour, you can’t. It’s long gone, my home is gone, _again._ There’s no more fruit trees, no more chestnut trees, no more laughter. I’m stupid and blind and I don’t know who you are but that doesn’t mean you get to do this.”

“It’s not fair,” she cried, swirling her finger through the fallen jam on the table. The ache in her chest felt like it was ready to crush her and she picked up the box of biscuits, ready to throw it away from her. As she did so, she came to her senses, placing the box softly back on the table. 

“Sorry,” she said again to no one. “I don’t like thinking about all the things I’ve lost. Somehow these stupid presents made me think about that a lot.”

“The cookies do taste good though,” she added, reaching into the box for another one, deciding that the emotional recollection was worth it for the sweet deliciousness of a good jammy dodger. Her fingers, however, caught something that wasn’t organic and she pulled something else from her biscuit tin. 

“Twelve,” she breathed, looking at the bright red bag in her hand. She slowly loosened the drawstrings ties and tipped it over so she could shake something loose from the packet onto her waiting palm. 

The thing that came out was a black seed, perfectly round and about the size of a five pence coin. For something so small, it seemed to have a bit of weight to it. She rolled it up to her fingers and inspected it under the light, feeling the grooves wrapped around the seed. It slipped out of her fingers and rolled down again, coming to rest in the crook of her palm again, She turned the packet over in her hand looking for some confirmation of what she already knew but the packet was entirely non-descript. 

She’d known immediately what it was, and if she didn’t, the fact that she’d found it tucked away in the box of homemade biscuits made from jam of the very fruits she now had seeds for was enough of a giveaway.

Her first tightened around the single seed as the bag slipped from her fingers, one loose seed rolling a little across the table before it bumped against the charcoal box and stopped. 

With shaking fingers, she picked up the pen and filled in the last line of her checklist. 

_12\. Seeds from my favourite place_

The thing is, for all she hated Time Lords and had spent her life running from Gallifrey, she deeply loved it. The people may be flawed but the planet had been this beautiful haven for her. She could run away and hide in an orchard, skinning legs dangling off the branches that were thick enough to sit on as they held each other tight, making sure neither one of them accidentally fell from the height of the trees as they hid in the seclusion of the leaves. She’d fallen in love in those trees, her childish mind not seeing it for what it was until it was too late. It had just been her and her best friend trying to see who could reach out the farthest from their branch to pick at the fruit and splitting the score between them. 

It had been simple then. No burden of lies, no ghost of grief following her everywhere. No madness, no running, just a childhood. 

Now it was tinged with something else, the reveal of how much of her life had been a lie stung. But he hadn’t lied to her, not then. Now all he did was lie, pretending to be her friend again, dancing with her, mocking her thoughts. 

Even then he hadn’t taken Gallifrey away from her, not this time. The seeds in her hand were proof that somehow, some precious part of Gallifrey still lived. It was more than them, more than the Time Lords and their rules and ridiculous customs. It was the smell of the orchard, the fresh grass and the mud stains on their knees, wind blowing through their hair. It was home and happiness and the sense of freedom she’d been trying to reclaim ever since. 

No matter who this mystery person was, they’d given her the most precious gift she thought she’d ever had. She had hope now. 

Smiling to herself, she took the seed in her hand and placed it back into the bag. She picked up the other one that had rolled and dropped it back into the bag too, pulling the strings tight again. She gave the bag a kiss, whispering a thank you in her head to anyone who could hear it. 

She put the lid back on to the biscuit box and gathered up her notepad, pen and the red bag with all of its precious seeds. She went back through to her bedroom and placed the seed bag on top of the bow tie box. She looked at the ring box for a moment before she opened it up and took out the delicate bands of Axcher gold and placed them on her fingers in the same arrangement as she had worn them the other night. She closed the now empty ring box and placed it back where it was before she turned to the notebooks. 

She picked up the one with her own words first, pouring over each syllable before flicking through every subsequent page to check there wasn’t another page she was missing. But it was the same warning, telling her to wait. She’d already waited, she had all the clues and there was nothing left to get. She had enough to understand and yet something was still alluding her. Maybe she needed to see the solution to know. Maybe it was time now for the truth.

Mildly frustrated, she grabbed the other notebook and turned the pages as quickly as she thought she could without ripping them from their fragile bindings. She barely took in the words, _‘Last warning, love’_ before she was staring at the page she’d not gotten to yet. 

_‘Love, I know you’re not ready. Don’t argue with me. I know you, so I know you’re not. Trust, in time xx’_

Her breath came out like it was being punched out of her. It was more than three words and yet it said too much and still too little. ‘Not ready?’ it was a book, what could it possibly say that she, of all people, wasn’t ready to hear? 

‘Don’t argue?’ she snarled, why was this book insistent on telling her what to do? She still didn’t know who had written it and she was so angry at them. Leaving her cryptic notes and telling her that she’d know in time. Who was this confounding person who left her seeds from a garden in Gallifrey and didn’t want her to know the truth? How could she not know when the memories of her childhood were sitting right beside her? Who was this blasted person who seemed to know her better than she knew herself? Or at least that’s what it seemed like they were claiming. She tried to wrack her brain but the only person that came to mind she dismissed immediately. She knew it wasn’t River already, so who? Herself? Well that was ridiculous. Her friends were great but none of them would be making claims like that. The only one who might know her mind that intimately was the Tardis itself, but the last she checked manifesting presents out of nowhere was one thing but physically writing in a journal was a bit beyond even her capabilities. 

Who was this mad person who left her notebooks and gifts, clothes and cookies and things she’d always admired and never thought to get for herself? Who was this person who seemed to be willing to adore her and yet not come anywhere near her? 

Not that she could blame them. Going near her only meant getting hurt. Of course no sane person would want to do that to themselves. Or any insane person for that matter. 

Wait…

No.

It couldn’t be. Absolutely not. 

Yet even as she tried to get rid of the idea, it was already there, spreading its poison through her mind and lazily putting all the pieces together. The answer was right in front of her, whether she wanted to see it or not. She’d been blind to it this whole time, all the clues suddenly becoming almost mockingly obvious as she finally saw the answer she’d been trying so hard to pretend wasn’t even an option.

‘Kisses.’ _Very French that,_ she absent mindedly thought to herself, finally understanding. She turned the page. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So she knows who it is (finally) but what does the Master have to say for himself? Thank you to everyone who has read so far, final chapter will be posted tomorrow


	13. On the thirteenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...everything I ever needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally understanding, she turned the page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly shorter chapter than usual but I hope you still enjoy

_‘My dearest Doctor,_

_I’d still probably tell you that you’re not ready for this, but you’re too stubborn to listen and I think your patience with me might have just ran out. Not that I think you had much patience with me to begin with but I digress._

_Before you get mad at me, just know this wasn’t wholly my idea. Yes, I’ve been looking for ways to give you love and attention for years (not that you’d ever know it) but it was your precious Tardis who orchestrated most of it. She showed me how you were hurting, how you kept all that hatred burning inside yourself and just kept turning it inwards._

_Love, please don’t do that. Please don’t think that you’re broken and undeserving of love. Take it from one who knows. You are the brightest thing I have ever seen in any of my lives. You burn so much I think getting close to you is the same as getting burned, but not in the way you might think. You think you singe people? Darling, I think you fuel people. You show them the stars and let them find everything they ever needed in that._

_Everything I’ve ever needed has always been in you, ever since we were young boys. That’s why I spent so many years running from you. It scares me that you have that about you. You exude love like a sun exudes warmth. I have always been scared of you, looking for ways to put out that light because I don’t like how it shows every shadow that clings to me, illuminates them in a light that makes me want to claw them all out, even if they are all a part of me. Every light I see reminds me of you, a singular star on your own wavelength, so above everything else and yet ready to shine your light, your love, on everyone who needs it. You never shine it on yourself, always ready to escape into your own darkness. I can’t watch my sun go out, can’t watch it be consumed by darkness. I cannot and I will not abide by it any longer, do you hear me?! You’re the brightest star in the whole known cosmos and I don’t know how you can be so inescapably dense as to miss that._

_I’m not sorry for shouting at you because I need you to listen this time, really listen to me. Just promise me, regardless of anything, that you’ll come punch me before you punch yourself?_

_It’s the only way I know how to love you._

_XX O’_

The book fell out of her fingers with a thud, falling open to the next page.

 _‘When you’re ready to let yourself be loved, come find me,’_ it said. One fat tear fell down over the word ‘loved’ warping the ink underneath. She quickly wiped away the rest of them before they could ruin the precious notebook anymore. She scooped it up carefully, pressing it against her hearts, the page still opened to those last words.

 _Go find him,_ her mind supplied and she snapped into action, feet slipping off her bed and walking her through to her console room. 

“Take me to him,” she said clearly, knowing the Tardis knew exactly who she meant. Of course she knew. She’d know the whole time. 

_Oh, stupid, stupid Doctor,_ she admonished. _How could you be so blind? He’d taken all those things you loved once and reminded you of that. Leaving you clues so obvious with every step. He’d basically handed you the roses himself and you hadn’t even noticed it._

The engine whooshed around her as she flew through the time vortex, her fingers drumming restlessly against the console. Time couldn’t get her there any faster and yet she wanted to see him now. She’d wasted too much time already. 

She felt everything still around her and she felt frozen in place. She wanted to run out the doors, to go scream at him for everything but her feet were rooted to the spot. It was only when the Tardis opened the door and she felt the air rush in around her that she turned round.

He was already there, leaning against the doorframe as if he’d always been there, waiting for her to turn round and see him. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“What’s this?” she asked in turn, brandishing the notebook. 

He sauntered slowly towards her, like a predator stalking its prey, almost triumphant in knowing that it had finally succeeded. “That’s a book, love. Aren’t you supposed to be smart enough to know that without me telling you?”

“I meant what’s written.”

“What’s written inside it then?” 

“Read it,” she said, thrusting it towards him.

“I’d rather not read your personal diary. Can’t imagine how dull that would be, all those tedious adventures of you and your little pets.”

“Read. It.”

“I said no,” he said lowly, and she could feel energy crackling off of him, telling her to back down. But still she kept pushing.

“Why won’t you read it?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Just bloody read it.”

“I’m not going to!”

“Why not?” she roared.

“Because I already know what it says!” he screamed back and she stopped, the book falling from her fingers. He caught it without thinking, snapping the book shut with two fingers. His response was gentler when he spoke again, as if all his energies were going into making his words as calm as possible. “Do you know how frustrating it is to hear your pathetic sad thoughts all the time, Doctor?”

“You’ve been reading my thoughts?” she gasped, stumbling back a little.

“No. You’ve been projecting them into mine, whether I wanted to hear them or not.”

“But how?”

“Open psychic link that wasn’t properly closed but that’s not the point,” he said, waving his hand before continuing. “The point is that I got sick of hearing you say how much you hate yourself. No one gets to hate you that much, love. That’s my job.”

“But why all the gifts, why go through all of that?”

“Needed to make you hate yourself less. It really was giving me quite the headache.”

“So you decided the way to do that was to send me incredibly personal and thoughtful gifts?”

If she hadn’t known him his entire life she would have missed the way he shifted slightly. “Yes.”

The air grew thick around them as they stared at each other, only a couple of feet apart, cheeks still flushed from yelling. Even the Tardis seemed to be humming quieter, as if she too was holding her breath, waiting to see who, or what, would break first. 

“Hmmm,” the Doctor said eventually, twirling one of the gold bands around her finger. The Master’s eyes snapped up and his eyes widened fractionally as he noted the way she was fiddling with one of the rings he’d gotten her. 

“What’re you bloody humming for,” he snapped. 

“Just thinking, it’s awfully rude that you got me so many things and I’ve not gotten you anything at all.”

“Yes, well, you’ve always had atrocious manners.”

“You really can’t think of anything you’d want in return?” she asked, eyes glinting as she took one step towards him. 

“I’m good, just needed the bloody headache to stop, that’s all,” he scowled, refusing to meet her eye.

“Oh, really?” she asked, taking another step.

“Yes really. Just wanted you to leave me alone.”

“If you say so,” she said, finally leaning in. She swallowed his soft gasp with her mouth as she kissed him, smelling the faintest aroma of woodsmoke and tasting something that could only be categorised as joy, before breaking apart to grin at him. “Guess I’ll just leave you alone then.”

“Like bloody hell you will,” he said, dragging her back towards him, book falling from his hand as his fingers carding through her hair as he kissed her with all the frustration and love he had. 

She was still grinning when they pulled apart but it was matching on his face. “Just for future reference, all I want for Christmas is you.”

“I take it all back,” he said darkly as she laughed. 

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I guess I don’t,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! This was a complete labour of love and kind of took over my entire life for the week that I wrote it in and all the response I’ve gotten to this has made me so happy. This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and that makes it one of the best things I’ve accomplished this year. 
> 
> I’m not done with these two just yet. I have a sequel planned that goes through the same story but from the Master’s perspective that will hopefully start releasing in the New Year. In the meantime the first sequel _Partridge in a Pear Tree_ will be up in the next couple of days, featuring cuddles, yelling and the two of them finally communicating properly (for once). 
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to any who celebrate and I’ll be back with the next part in a few days 
> 
> Love, Junior ❤
> 
> Update 28th December: _Partridge_ now up: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28384545


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